Behind the Veil
by 24green.roses
Summary: A year ago, Draco left Hermione's life. Now, under a completely calculated set of circumstances, their two fates are once again entwined, forcing her to confront all the misunderstandings surrounding their breakup. But she soon realizes that perhaps everything was best left behind the veil.
1. Chapter 1

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione**

**Rated: T (for language)**

**Summary:** **He had played her, had made her believe that everything between them was real. And just when she had moved on, just when she was sure she could close that part of her life behind her, he reappeared, ready to begin the cycle once again.**

**A/N: Just to clarify any confusion, there are two running timelines. The story takes place in 2004, with flashbacks that take place between 2001-2003.**

**Thanks to my betas Yuli and Yami, you guys are the best :)**

* * *

**Chapter One:**

**March 2nd, 2004  
Griffith & Sons Corporation  
London Branch**

"What?!" Hermione demanded, almost leaping to her feet. "You are _selling_ the company?"

The man that was Hermione's boss, whom she had now come to consider almost a friend, sighed, leaning back in his seat. "I have to, Hermione."

"But, Mr. Griffith, this is a family company; your family has been dedicated to this company for centuries. You can't just lose hope now."

"We're bankrupt, Hermione. Our company can't compete with the number of new potions that the competition has churned out these days. Our facilities are outdated, we're underfunded. There isn't much I can do."

Hermione let out a slow, solemn sigh. "What's going to happen now?"

Mr. Griffith sat straighter in his chair. "That's why I brought you here. You see, although you have only worked in my company for eight months, in that time you have created and patented the production of the Jason Potion under our company's name. Therefore, as sole creator of the Jason Potion, I'm offering you two options; you can either allow the potion's patent to move to Malfoy Industries, or -,"

"What?" Hermione asked.

He looked to her questioningly. She clarified, "I'm sorry, sir; I thought I heard you say Malfoy Industries."

"I did, Hermione. Didn't I mention, I'm selling the company to the Malfoy's?"

Hermione felt her face drain of color. "Malfoy Industries is buying the company?"

"Yes. I looked at your file and saw that you worked for them in the Australia branch before coming here; I don't see the major problem."

Shock overwhelmed her. Malfoy? She took in a breath, and pushed back the distant memories that were creeping up on her with the mention of his name. "I – I'm just surprised."

"Look, Hermione," he began in a less formal tone, leaning forward, "I'm assuming you have had bad history with Malfoy Industries, which is why you left them, but they gave me the best deal. They are offering to keep full employment of my employees, and allow them to continue research with all their current projects."

Of course, Malfoy would be the one to offer the best of the best. He was a Malfoy, after all. "What's the catch?" Hermione grumbled under her breath.

"Ah, the catch," Mr. Griffith continued, ignoring her tone. "Two things: one, you along with all my other employees will be relocated to the Malfoy Industries building down the street, and two, I must resign my position as CEO."

"That bastard," Hermione mumbled.

"Pardon?"

She cleared her throat. "Is there really no other way?" she asked louder.

Mr. Griffith shook his head. "The other option is to sell to a less generous company that would lay off half my employees or shut down the place as a whole."

Hermione sat back in her seat, aggravated. If there was one thing she never wanted to have to do, it was to be in that annoying, self-absorbed, pompous, abandoning arse's presence ever again. "What else is there to discuss?" Hermione asked.

"Ah, back to what I was going to say, the Jason Potion. You can either give the rights of distribution to Malfoy Industries, or arrange a meeting with Mr. Draco Malfoy and discuss your rights of ownership over its distribution."

There might as well have been only one option, because she, for one, was not going to give her two years of hard work over to him without a fight. "Arrange the meeting."

* * *

Hermione grumbled in her office. She couldn't believe this. Griffith was selling the company, and she only had a few days' notice before she had to pick up her things and move into the Malfoy Industries building. Granted, it was just down the street, but still! Hermione Granger was not one to just joyously pack up her things and hop on over to her ex-boyfriend's company to work under his management.

No, she had much more pride than that.

* * *

**July 2001  
****Australian Ministry of Magic**

Tonight was the Australian Head of Law Enforcement's birthday celebration. Being a ministry employee, it had been deemed pretty much mandatory for Hermione to go. She arrived without complaint, and was currently sitting at an empty table near the dance floor, looking around to find any co-workers, or possibly some friends she had met in her healer training academy, that she could talk to.

Technically, Hermione wasn't a healer. She had a degree to be one, but her preferred work was researching for cures. Besides working at the ministry, the only job opened to her out of the gate was being a proper healer. It wasn't that she didn't want to help people. It was just that, after seeing blood and guts many times in her life, she didn't enjoy it.

Suddenly, her light was blocked by a large figure. Looking up, she saw the face of Draco Malfoy. Shock crossed her face despite her trying to hide it. She was positive it was him, but what was he doing in Australia? The last time she saw him was at his trial, in London, when Harry had testified for the freedom of his family.

"Care to dance, Granger?" he asked, holding out a hand to her.

She hesitated. While it had been a few years, and he was "redeemed" and now a successful businessman, after all those years of name-calling and hatred, it was still difficult to just accept his hand.

"It's just a dance, Granger."

His tone was almost daring. Hermione looked into his eyes to catch that familiar look he gave throughout their childhood when he was pushing her to see how far she'd go, but now it was for completely different reasons.

She reasoned one dance couldn't hurt, and besides, she wasn't going to let him scare her. She took his hand as he helped her to her feet and onto the dance floor. Once they had gotten into the proper dancing position, Hermione felt secure enough to ask the question that screamed at her. "Why are you here?" She knew she added a bit more attitude than may have been polite, but she hoped he didn't notice.

"I was invited by the Minister of Magic."

Rolling her eyes, she rephrased the question. "I meant: what are you doing in Australia?"

"Malfoy Industries is in the process of expansion."

"Oh." A weak response, but she didn't have a better reply. What else would he be here for? Hermione knew about Malfoy Industries. The company revolutionized potion brewing. They were the first company to have their entire business run on the selling and distribution of potions. It was hard to imagine, but just over fifty years ago, all apothecaries and hospitals alike brewed their own potions. The ingenuity of Malfoy Industries was to create pre-brewed potions. Therefore, all there was for hospitals and apothecaries to do was to simply contact Malfoy Industries to get a potion in days, as opposed to personally brewing a potion for weeks. The idea that Malfoy Industries wanted to spread worldwide to maximize potion distribution, and their profits, made sense.

"And now that I have answered one of your questions, it is my turn; why are you in Australia?"

The question didn't faze her in the least; she was asked it about a half a dozen times a day by people who recognized her from Britain. "Australia has the best healer academy in the world."

"And you are to be a healer?"

"No, I want to find cures for diseases and ailments."

"Research, then."

"Yes." Hermione looked up to see his reaction; it wasn't one of surprise. "But you already knew that."

"I did," he said, giving her a look one could have perceived as arrogant.

"Then why bother asking?" she demanded.

"People don't like it when I just know things." Hermione silently seconded that. She saw him looking over the top of her head, and she used the excuse to look up at him. He'd definitely changed over the past few years; he had grown into his body and filled out his form. She could feel his shoulders through his robes. His hair was styled in a way that nowhere near resembled his old gelled up style. It was swept over to one side, done in a fashion that made it seem almost careless, but she knew it had to be more than it appeared.

"My, my," his voice drawled suddenly as he looked down to her. "Do you like what you see, Granger?"

Blushing, she diverted her gaze. It was embarrassing to be caught gawking. It was then she realized how fast her heart was beating. He spun her suddenly, before pulling her even closer to him.

Now Hermione could feel a lot of his upper body, and the gap between them was significantly less. Neither of them said anything as they danced. Hermione could feel her heart begin to pound louder, and couldn't work up the nerve to say anything.

It wasn't until the last few chords of the song were being played that he spoke again. "Maybe we can meet up sometime."

Was this what she thought it was? "What for?" she questioned.

He didn't reply. She wasn't sure why, but part of her wondered if it was because he hadn't heard her. She made to repeat the question when the song ended, and they parted to give the band a round of applause.

"Thank you for the dance, Miss Granger." Hermione felt her heart flutter as he took her hand and kissed it. Hermione's heart fell a little as he straightened and began to walk away.

Logically, she knew she would probably be seeing more of him while he was still in Australia, and that the dance was most likely for old time's sakes or just basic PR. But, as he left her standing there on the dance floor, she didn't want it to be over. And a part of her hoped that he felt the same way.

She figured that one more dance wouldn't hurt anyone, so as the next song started up she drew upon her Gryffindor courage to call out, "Malfoy?" He stopped, turning to her. "I'd – I'd -" she sighed, closing her eyes as the words rolled off her tongue, "like another dance." As she opened her eyes, her cheeks turned crimson, and she knew it, but she couldn't figure out another way to phrase it.

His face was impassive at first. It had her worrying, was she stepping out of line? Was his dancing with her something courteous because she had been alone? Was she reading his signals wrong? It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime, before she saw his infamous smirk cross his face. She felt the relief wash through her as he sauntered back over to her, and took her into his arms for their second dance.

He didn't leave her side again until the end of the night.

* * *

**March 2nd, 2004  
****Hermione's Flat**

Ten o'clock found Hermione with Ron. They had just returned from a dinner with Harry and Ginny, and were comfortably snuggling on the couch. Hermione had her head resting on Ron's shoulder as he played with her hair.

The two of them had been casually dating again for only a few months now. After the war, they were together for a while until Hermione decided to finish up her schooling properly at Hogwarts before heading off to a healer academy. But Ron had decided he wanted to go into auror training immediately. And so the two had split, saying if it was meant to be, they'd still love each other when they got back.

After Hogwarts, Hermione left for Australia, and it wasn't until five years later that things settled enough that Hermione could even see Ron. He and Harry were always on trips around the world for their auror training. After training was complete, the two of them spent months awkwardly going around the "dating" topic. And it wasn't until last December when Ron finally asked her on a date. She didn't refuse.

She needed someone like Ron. He was dependable, loyal, familiar, stable, and most importantly, his love for her never faltered. That was what she needed. After the fiasco with Draco in Australia, she needed someone who would love her for her, and not require anything else.

Her thoughts were interrupted with Ron's intake of breath, and the regular rhythm of his breathing paused. "You've been quiet, Hermione. What's on your mind?" he asked.

Sighing, Hermione looked into the fire. "Griffith is selling the company."

It was quiet, and although she didn't see the shock on his face, she could imagine it well enough. "To whom?" he asked.

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Ron asked. He sat up, forcing Hermione off his shoulder. "What does that mean?"

Hermione sighed. "It means I now work for him, and I will be moving into his company's building on Monday."

"You could come work for the Ministry, the healing department is just below the auror's." He waggled his eyebrows, and Hermione smiled, before forcing herself into their previous position; she had been comfortable there.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, resuming his play with her hair.

"He also owns the Jason potion."

"That can't be a bad thing, Hermione. I mean, yes, we don't like him, but his parents did save Harry's life, and we did testify for him. And on top of that, I know Malfoy's company is the top potions distributor."

Hermione sighed. Yes, all of what Ron said was true, and no, it wasn't so bad a thing. Her potion would get distributed, it would meet the demands, it would always get to where it needed to be on time. But Ron didn't know about her other "history" with Malfoy, Ron didn't know she dated him for over a year in Australia, and Ron didn't know that she didn't want to have anything to do with him again. But she wasn't going to tell him that. So she stuck with a complacent, "I suppose."

"You can't mean to say you're still harboring ill feelings from our school days."

"No, I'm not," she said dismissively. Her ill feelings were from much more recent than that.

"Then why do you seem so upset?"

"I don't know; I just have a bad feeling about this, is all." It wasn't a lie. In truth, she had bad feelings over the idea of working for Malfoy because of their history, but that's not how she meant Ron to interpret what she meant.

"It'll be fine," he said, kissing her head. "If you want, just ask him for the rights to distribute the potion, and then come work at the Ministry with me." Hermione nodded the best she could without moving her head off his shoulder. That seemed like the best plan now, and the one she intended to make follow through. "I mean, what's he going to do? Burn your resignation letter, and refuse you the rights to your own potion? Bah." He chuckled at the idea of it.

Hermione laughed a little as well. She felt a little more assured now. Ron was right, he couldn't force her to stay, or keep the rights to her potion if she asked. The idea of it was absurd, even with their history. She was probably worrying for nothing.

Pulling a blanket over them, Hermione began asking Ron about his day.

* * *

**March 9th, 2004  
****Hermione's Flat  
****8:23 AM**

Today was the day; Hermione had a meeting with Malfoy at nine. And she was going in prepared. The Jason Potion was hers. She was the sole inventor, creator, owner, whatever they wanted to call it.

She had researched a cure after she met a little boy named Jason in a hospital in Australia. She was working part time as a healer's assistant then, something to keep her busy after school, and her job was to mainly give patients their meals. Most of the people she fed were old, grouchy, and not very talkative. That is, except Jason. He was outgoing, bouncy, and never stopped asking questions.

She remembered after she met him, she had asked one of the nurses what was wrong with him, and one of the nurses had simply told her he had Billywig Syndrome and left. Hermione knew what a Billywig was. Blue billywigs were harmless, but she also knew the sting of the more rare white Billywig slowly killed a person from the inside. She had also found there was a potion, one that stopped the effects of the poison, if given to the victim within 24 hours of the sting.

Hermione cried when she first realized that victims who didn't get that treatment quickly enough usually suffered fatal consequences.

For the next few weeks, Hermione visited Jason every day, and his personality and happiness never seemed to fade. It was only his strength that continued to change in him until, on the last day she saw him, he couldn't even get out of his bed.

The first time Hermione was given reign to research for potions after she had gotten her degree, the first cure she attempted was one for Billywig Syndrome, a proper cure, one that could have saved people like Jason.

After two years of research, she succeeded, and she was not going to give up the rights to its distribution now.

Her plan was simple: storm in, demand everything she wanted, resign, and leave. It was as simple as that and she wasn't going to let him run her over.

Whilst going through the rest of her morning routine, Hermione began to mentally prepare. If it was one thing Hermione knew, it was that Draco Malfoy was a stubborn man. And in order to get what she wanted, she had to be more stubborn. She had to make sure he wouldn't play her like he did three years ago, that he _couldn't_ play her like he did then. Hermione was going to march in, completely business professional, and get what she wanted.

Checking to make sure she had everything in her purse, Hermione got ready to floo into the office. She supposed that was one of the perks that Malfoy Industries provided for their workers.

Stop. She had to stop, she couldn't _want_ to go back and work for him. She couldn't do that to herself. Not after – not after everything that happened.

Hermione cast a grooming charm that would make sure none of her clothes would get messed up from the dust of the fireplace, took a deep breath, and stated as she dropped the floo powder, "Malfoy Industries."

The next clear image she had was of Malfoy Industries. She was in the floo room. The entire room consisted of fireplaces for people to enter through. She stepped out and headed for the lift room down the hall.

Once there, she walked to the back of the room. All the lifts were lined on the sides of the walls, but there was only one lift positioned in the back wall. Above it, it clearly read, "Malfoy office". Hermione took in a breath, and pressed the only available button.

A bell chimed as the lift door opened. Hermione stepped in, and the doors closed. "State your name," a professional voice said.

"Hermione Granger."

It was quiet for a few moments, and still. Then, the lift picked up, and she could feel herself being carried up, higher and higher toward Malfoy's office.

Waiting as the elevator rose, Hermione controlled herself. Yes, she had seen Malfoy since then. She had seen him with his fiancée, Asteria Greengrass, quite a few times at important events. If there was one reason Hermione couldn't work for Malfoy again, it would be her.

"Come on, Hermione, you can do this," she whispered as the same bell noise she heard earlier chimed and the door slid open.

She stepped out to see a secretary with the same voice she heard in the elevator. "Ms. Granger, go on in, he's expecting you."

Hermione walked to the back of the hall. The doors were grand, almost too grand for a business office, but that was just Malfoy flaunting his wealth.

Hermione took in a breath. "This is it," she said quietly before pushing the doors open.

The office was huge, larger than his office in Australia. It had many tables lining the sides, and Hermione saw a pot of tea brewing. The entire back wall of the office was glass, and gave way to a lovely view. But the view was hindered by the gigantic desk in front of it, where Draco Malfoy was standing from his seat, ready to greet her.

"Hermione," he said in a voice that carried professionalism. "It's been too long."

Hermione stepped forward as he offered her a hand shake. She took it, whilst saying, "I'd prefer Granger, if you don't mind, Mr. Malfoy."

She saw one of his eyebrows flicker upward, before he released her hand. "Please, sit," he said.

She did as told. It was quiet for a few seconds, and she hoped he'd say something, because if he didn't, she was going to burst out and start demanding things.

"Griffith told me you wanted to discuss your ownership over the distributing rights of the Jason Potion." Hermione nodded. She watched as he picked up a paper and scanned it before saying, "The Jason Potion is, of course, a cure for Billywig Syndrome. This occurs when the rare white Billywig stings a witch or wizard, and its poison slowly shuts down the ability of the wizard to conduct magic, which has fatal consequences. The Jason Potion replaced Potion 329 as a treatment for Billywig Syndrome earlier this year worldwide, though it only affected Australia, considering the Billywig only lives in Australia -,"

"I know, Mr. Malfoy, what the potion does," she said, barely controlling the anger that was starting to possess her. He knew she knew this, and yet he was reciting it to her. And she knew for a fact that he knew she knew all this, because she had shared most of her struggles over the Jason Potion with him. Hell, he was the one who gave her the idea for the name of the potion.

"My question, Hermione, is why you would want to remove your potion from the largest potion distributing company in the world. You know we have a branch in Australia."

"Yes, I know. But largest doesn't necessarily mean _best_, Malfoy. _Largest_ just means 'bought out most of the small time competition.'"

"I did Griffith a favor in keeping all his employees."

"Did it ever occur to you we didn't want your help?!"

"We? Or you, Hermione?"

"It's Granger!" Hermione said at the edge of her seat. "Don't call me Hermione like you care, Malfoy. Don't call me Hermione like I mean something to you, like I'm worth more to you than a pastime while you were in Australia. _Don't_."

"This isn't about you, Hermione; it's about your potion. We're supposed to be discussing the rights to its distribution."

"_I_ invented the potion; give me the right to distribute it."

"You can't distribute a potion all the way in Australia, Hermione, not with you being on the wrong global hemisphere."

"I'll find another company."

"No company can do better than Malfoy Industries."

"I don't care."

"Aren't you being a little selfish, Hermione, hurting people by denying them a cure, which you know you would be doing if you took the rights of distribution from me."

"I'll figure out a way without you, Malfoy. I don't want you to reap benefits off of my cure for people that need it."

He sat back then, temporarily halting their spitfire retorts. "That can be arranged."

Hermione rolled her eyes, as if he could cease to be a proper businessman. "Just give me the documents, Malfoy."

"They belong to Malfoy Industries."

"I invented the potion."

"And you work for me."

"Not after today. I quit," Hermione said stone faced whilst wrenching out her pre-written resignation letter and slamming it on his desk. "Everything is signed and filled out per Malfoy standards." He slid the document to his side of the desk before picking it up. But to her surprise he didn't open it. "What are -," the next moment the letter burst into flames. Hermione could only watch as it burned in his hand, before he dumped its remains in a waste bin.

"Resignation not accepted."

Hermione felt her blood boil. She couldn't believe him. She didn't want to stay in this room with him any longer. She couldn't. She stood up and headed for the door.

"Hermione!" he called. She didn't turn, and the next second she found his hand on her wrist.

Reaching her breaking point, she hardly could have stopped herself as her hand made contact with his face. There was a resounding "Smack!" that echoed off the walls. "Don't ever touch me again."

His grip on her faltered, and Hermione ran from his office past the secretary into the waiting elevator.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading, I'd really like to know what you guys think._

_Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	2. Chapter 2

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione****  
****Rated: T (for language)**

**A/N: Here's chapter two, in which we get to see inside Draco's head and how he feels about everything... **

**Special thanks to Yuli, for dealing with me and my comma issues. **

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**July 2001  
Hermione's flat  
Sydney, Australia **

Hermione awoke groggily. It was Sunday, the day after the Head of Law Enforcement's birthday. Hermione rolled onto her belly, as the previous night's events flooded her. She remembered Malfoy, she remembered dancing, and she even remembered the awkward handshake they shared at the end of the night, not knowing where they stood with each other.

Sitting up, Hermione looked at the clock; it was nine thirty. She sat up and messily mussed up her hair more before going off to the bathroom. But something on her desk caught her eye. She stopped and, walking closer, saw it was a gift.

As she leaned down to pick it up, she saw it was an ornately decorated box twice the size of her clutch purse, with a bow on top. The box sat upon a piece of parchment. Hermione picked it up and, in neat script, read:

_Thanks for last night,  
Good luck with your aspirations. _

_D. Malfoy_

Hermione could feel her insides twist as she opened the box. Inside it contained a jar which, at first glance, seemed to shine and shimmer in different colors. But as Hermione got closer, she saw that the jar in fact contained Opaleye scales.

She gasped. Opaleye scales were rare, extremely rare, especially because they were rarely seen. One was lucky to get a container with three scales, or four, but a jar? That was almost unheard of. Hermione continued to spin the clear glass jar and observed the seemingly changing color. Opaleye scales were highly valued for researching purposes, especially in long, complicated potions. Half an Opaleye scale could pause the brewing of a potion for twelve hours, allowing the brewer a break or rest before continuing with brewing.

She couldn't accept this. It wasn't her place to take something like this from Malfoy. She had to give it back. Luckily, she knew where he'd be today. He was observing the construction of the new Malfoy Industries building, which was down the street from the Ministry of Magic.

Before she went, though, she had to get ready. She promptly took care of all necessary hygiene and food needs that she had. Dressed in a way that she felt was business casual, she took the jar of Opaleye scales, slipped them into her purse, and left the house for the nearest Apparition spot.

Landing outside the Malfoy Industries building, she saw that they were making major progress in the building. She entered cautiously, not knowing if it was really her place to. Running into a couple of construction workers, they directed her to his office, the highest room in the building. At least the lift was working.

Once on the top floor, Hermione noticed that this area of the building wasn't done, either. The walls only looked half solid, and the floor looked like it could give way any second. But that was the risk with magical construction.

Making her way to the last door in the hall, Hermione felt her shoes sinking into the floor, and hoped that she wouldn't slip completely through. Once she reached his door, she knocked three times, and called, "Malfoy?" She hated sounding that helpless, but what's done was done. She waited a few moments before she heard the door open.

Pushing it open wider, she saw it had done so on its own accord. Stepping in, she found the floor much more solid. She looked around, finally finding Draco standing a ways behind his desk, glancing at her. "Granger? Come in."

She swallowed and walked in further before taking a seat opposite his. She felt the awkwardness that came with the next day wash over her. Yesterday, they had been so close, so openly free to say whatever by the end of the night. But today, with the light of day looming over them, it was hard to resume that cordiality. "I – I got your gift."

"Ah, did you like it?" he asked.

"Yes, I mean no, I mean, yes, I liked it, but I can't accept it."

She began to draw the jar from her bag, before he said, "Of course you can."

"No, this is too nice of a gift for you to give me. I can't."

She placed the scales on the desk. "I don't want them back, Granger. They're a gift for you. I have no need of them."

"Well, you can give them to someone else -,"

"They're yours," he interrupted. "Throw them away if you don't want them."

She could barely resist the urge to drop her jaw. "Throw them away? Do you know how valuable these are?"

"Yes, I paid for them," he said in all seriousness. Hermione blinked. Yes, he had paid for them, and at who knows what price. "You told me you wanted to research cures, and I find that profession noble. And so, I have decided to aid your process. Can't you accept that?"

"But I hardly know you, Malfoy."

"We can change that, if that's what you are worried about." Hermione looked up. What did he mean by that? "Come on," he said standing, offering her a hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked hesitantly.

"Out."

"Like on a – date?"

"You may call it a business meeting if that makes you feel better, Granger." His bitter tone didn't escape her, but at the same time he lowered his hand, offering it to her, almost like a peace treaty.

Despite this, Hermione still didn't know if she should accept or not.

"It's just one 'business meeting', Granger."

Hermione looked up; his gaze was an exact replica of yesterday's, daring, trying to push her to the limit. Except, today, there was less need of it, because there was much less hesitation and reasoning put in before she placed her hand in his.

She didn't know why; she didn't think it was a smart idea. But, at that moment, all that seemed to matter was that she wanted to.

She hadn't noticed until he had pulled it back out later that day that he had taken the jar of Opaleye scales off his desk as they left. And when he gave it to her the second time, she couldn't find the heart to say no.

* * *

**March 9****th****, 2004  
****Malfoy Manor**

Draco sat over his paperwork, looking past it out the window. It had been a year and a month since he had seen her up close, a year and a month since she had left his life. He had been looking forward to that meeting for the past week. When he had seen her name written on his schedule, he had done a double take to make sure it was really her.

The meeting, though, did not go as he had hoped. He had hoped it would run smoothly; he had hoped she'd still try to act civil. But she started saying things, requesting he not call her by her first name. Calling him Malfoy like he was her proper boss and that was it. Acting as if what happened between them never had.

She was so angry at him, so riled up, so ready to just yell and jump to conclusions at everything he had said, that in the end, he had gotten mad with her as well. And he had added fuel to the fire of their conversation.

Until it exploded, combusted and she began to run.

He knew he shouldn't have gone after her; he knew that she didn't want him to. Truly, deep down she didn't. He could tell the times when she wanted him to come after her, but that wasn't one of them. And he had done it anyway. He had waited so long to see her, pulled so many strings to get his hands on the Griffith Company. He didn't want her to disappear again so soon.

The slap, it hurt. But physical pain wasn't what she wanted to get from him through it. It was the emotional pain she was trying to show him. Because even as she slapped him, he could see tears welling up in her.

Why was she mad at him in the first place? What exactly had gone so wrong in her mind that made her so furious? Wasn't she just as fault?

The grandfather clock chimed below Draco's feet; Draco looked at his wristwatch – it was eight o'clock. It was time for his mother's medicine.

A tray appeared at the corner of the desk with his mother's medication. He took it and began to walk to his mother's rooms.

Draco's mother had been sick, terribly ill for over a year now. His mother was the reason Draco had come back from Australia. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with her. In fact, the medication Draco was giving her wasn't to fight the disease that plagued her. It was only fighting the side effects. Fatigue, shortness of breath, fainting spells; his mother's entire strength seemed to be disappearing every day. But, despite this, no healer could give an explanation.

The only glimmer of hope was that she seemed to be improving. Not needing as much medication anymore, her health had begun to improve these past few months. And Draco hoped it would continue. He knocked on his mother's door before poking his head in. "Mother? It's time for your medication."

Narcissa Malfoy lay in her bed, her face pale, her hair looked like a few hours ago it might have been pristine, but had since then been slept on. Upon Draco's entrance, she looked up from her book and smiled. "Draco, dear," she said with a smile. Her face still had little color, and for that Draco worried.

"How are you feeling?" he asked whilst pouring out her dosage.

"Better," she said before clearing her throat.

Draco smiled and handed his mother her medication, before giving her a glass of water to wash it down with. She took Draco's hand as Draco sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you sure you are okay? Perhaps you should rest." He tried to take the book from her.

"Oh, I am fine, dear, don't mind me." There was a short pause, before, "I heard it has been a few days since you took Asteria out."

"Yes, mother, I've been busy."

"Well, take her out for dinner, then. I can eat with your Father."

Draco took in a breath; he wanted to tell his mother that, despite the wedding coming up in a month, he didn't love Asteria. He wanted to tell his mother about Hermione. In all honesty, he wanted to call the whole wedding off.

But how could he when his mother liked Asteria so much? How could he when his mother seemed to be so excited for the wedding? And he knew he would feel exceptionally guilty if he did the aforementioned things when the woman he truly wanted had someone else. So, instead of saying all those things, he said, "All right, Mother. If it makes you happy, I'll take some time out to see her."

"Oh, that's excellent, Draco! I can't wait until you two marry."

Draco nodded before getting up. "I guess I better owl her."

His mother was completely for it, telling him he should do it quickly before she made other dinner plans.

Heading for the family's owl quarters, he wondered what Hermione would be doing that night.

* * *

**Hermione's Flat**

"…And then he literally burned my resignation letter and said, 'Resignation not accepted,' as if it's his choice!"

Hermione took a deep breath before falling down on the couch. She had been pacing. She was furious over the situation with Malfoy. And when Ron showed up at her door to take her to dinner at the Burrow, well, there was no holding it in.

She felt relieved to just tell someone the situation and release some of her frustration, although she was careful to withhold some parts of the story, the parts that would have had Ron suspicious about her past with Malfoy. Hoping she hadn't revealed anything, she looked to Ron; he was staring at her in an odd manner. Hermione raised a brow. "What?"

She watched as his gaze shifted from her to the fireplace, then to his hands. Was he suspecting something? And then he said, "Don't you think you're being a bit _temperamental_ over all this? I mean, he has some good points."

"Are you siding with him?" she asked in shock.

"No, no," Ron jumped in quickly. "I just think you've been acting rather…uptight about all this."

"I thought you, of all people, would at least agree with me when I say Malfoy is a complete arse."

"Yes, I do agree, but he has changed. We aren't thirteen anymore, Hermione." She sighed. Yes, she knew they weren't students anymore, and she shouldn't act as if they were, but she couldn't help but get riled up over all this. It was Malfoy, for heaven's sake. How was she supposed to remain calm? But looking at Ron, who was giving her a rather sheepish look, she thought that maybe, perhaps she should take a step back and just relax. "So," Ron's voice cut into her thoughts, "what are you going to do?"

Hermione let out a breath. "I guess what I have to do, really. Continue my work at Malfoy Industries until I get the rights of my potion back."

Ron looked to her, staring at her for a long time. She didn't know why, but she found his gaze odd, and she was about to tell him to stop when he stood up. "I guess we should head off to the Burrow now, Mum's waiting."

Hermione's eyebrows crinkled together at the seemingly abrupt change in conversation, though as she continued to think about it, it wasn't so abrupt. She figured it was just her that hadn't quite thought the conversation was through yet. But she was feeling hungry, and she knew she shouldn't be giving Malfoy the right to occupy her mind so much, so she nodded and stood up to fix herself up before heading off to the Burrow with Ron for dinner.

* * *

Draco stared at his meal in front of him. The food was excellently prepared, and suitable to his tastes, but for some reason whenever he ate with Asteria, it was as if all food went bland, and all wine tasted flat. And so he was always stuck simply staring at his plate and waiting for her to finish eating. And that was never a quick task either, it was something that seemingly took forever because Asteria liked to talk.

It didn't matter if there was only two of them, or if there was a thousand people listening, or if no one was listening at all. She just liked to talk. "And so Draco, my Mother said, 'you need to invite our relatives from Germany', but I told her that is impossible, because we already have 500 guests on the invitation list. But my Mother kept on insisting, and she even went and asked_ your_ Mother about it, and then they decided to make room for another 50 guests, and it's just completely exhausting…"

Draco could have sworn the last time he checked the invitation list was at 200, but then again he never bothered to keep track of these things. The less he knew about it and had to think about it, the better.

She paused suddenly, and Draco looked up, eyes immediately focusing on her plate. With that disappointment, he looked at her. Her face told him she wanted some kind of reassurance he was listening. He nodded slowly, before she smiled and continued on.

He shoveled another bit of food in his mouth, hoping perhaps this time it would distract him from the sound of her voice.

* * *

**Outside Malfoy Manor**

Draco was ambling outside the Manor when an owl dropped a letter on him. Draco looked up, about to blast the creature into oblivion, but it was dark and late, and by the time he spotted the damn beast, it was out of blasting range.

Muttering to himself, Draco picked up the letter and reverted his anger to the writer, who shouldn't have been contacting him at this bloody hour, anyway.

Tearing it open, he saw the simple words:

_You're late. _

Draco groaned. He had forgotten he had promised Greg he'd have a drink with him that night. Turning around, he walked back toward the front gates before Apparating.

* * *

He appeared in front of the Red Phoenix. It was one of those pubs that was borderline sleazy. The reason he and Greg used it so often was that, inside it, no one cared who the hell you were.

He entered and found Greg at his typical table, with a girl in his lap. That was very typical of Greg these days.

Draco hadn't been the only person to change after the war. Greg had, as well. He had taken his bullying, thuggish self and turned his limited talents into a profession. Sublimation, some would call it. After the war, Greg set up a rather profitable company that, in essence, set curses. He basically set curses on vaults and offices for his clients to protect said locations from thieves or curse breakers. Draco considered it to be curse-setting, though Greg insisted his company was a "Security Service" and that he was a "Security Associate". Despite what it was called, Draco knew that the business wasn't reserved to honorable clients, though he never questioned Greg on the subject.

Draco approached the table, setting some privacy charms before sitting down, to the ignorance of Greg and the girl he was trying to swallow. Draco leaned back. "I don't really see why you even requested my presence; you seem to be having a hell of a time as is."

Greg broke off the kiss with the girl. Looking to Draco and ignoring the fact that there was girl in his lap, he said, "Look who decided to show up."

He then sweet talked the girl to leave as Draco watched. It always surprised him that girls were willing to do anything that had money attached to it.

When Greg turned his attentions back to Draco, he pretended to be engrossed with the new bottles of whiskey that the host had put on their table. "That bad, huh?" Greg said then.

Draco snapped his gaze at him. "You don't know what the hell you are talking about."

Greg let out a guffaw. "I may not test as well as you, Draco, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I could tell you were anticipating the meeting with your mystery girl when we talked last week. But today, you seem just as gloomy as you normally are."

Internally, Draco groaned. He really needed to watch his facial expressions more; he was getting sloppy. But then again, keeping his facial expressions in check meant caring that they were in check, which he rarely did these days. He grabbed one of the whiskeys and took a drink. "What happened?" Greg began, prying for information. "Is she affianced? Is she married? Did she find another man? Did she not remember you? Did..."

He was sure to keep his face blank as Greg continued his questioning. It was times like these that Draco regretted telling Greg about Hermione at all. Of course, Greg only knew some information; that they met in Australia, that she didn't have the best blood status, that he really loved her. Of course, Draco hadn't exactly shared this information with him willingly. It took five firewhiskeys before any of that information came out.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Greg demanded. Draco gave him a glare, which only made Greg laugh and take a swig of his whiskey. "She must be a hell of a girl. Or perhaps a hell of a lay-"

"Don't go there, Greg," Draco said threateningly.

He raised his hands in defeat. "Fine, keep her to yourself. How's Asteria?" he asked then.

Draco could never really understand how Greg could just jump topics like that. "Had to eat dinner with her tonight. It was dreadful."

"I don't see why you are complaining about her. She's pureblood, she's rich, she has a decent body… what else do you want in a wife?"

He wanted so much more than that. But he didn't respond to Greg's comment. "Is there any particular reason you called me out at ten o'clock at night?"

Greg's eyes alighted with the change of topic. He grinned. "I wanted to ask you about your stag party."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I already told you I don't want to have anything to do with Asteria's wedding."

"It's your wedding too, mate. You should let loose and have some fun before you're shackled to your gorgeous fiancée."

"Perhaps I won't have to be," he said, smiling into his whiskey.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Draco shrugged and took another drink. He was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.

He purposely didn't answer Greg's question and jumped to a new topic, not wanting to reveal anything before it happened. But deep down, he did hope that if everything went well, his relationship with Hermione wouldn't be all that bad in a couple of days.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! _

_I know Goyle is on the no-no list for best friend options for Draco in Dramione fics, but I like to give him some credit. I don't think he could have been_ that_ dumb... :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	3. Chapter 3

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (for language)**

**A/N: Happy Holidays everyone, time to ring in a new year with a new chapter :) In this chapter, Draco and Hermione go on a field trip…**

**Special thanks to Yuli for staying up late with me to get all those minor details just right :D**

* * *

**Chapter Three:**

**March 10th, 2004  
Hermione's flat**

Hermione took a bite of toast before turning the page of the _Daily Prophet_. She saw some information about Malfoy Industries and the rising price of housing. She continued to thumb through before finishing her last bite of toast.

Once she reached the "Skeeter" section, as she liked to call it, because of its obvious lack of real information and because it seemed more like a gossip column to her, she made to close the _Prophet_, before a streak of blond crossed her eye. She did a double take.

There was Draco Malfoy with his darling fiancée, Asteria Greengrass, in the newspaper. Hermione tried to find an article, but there were only pictures of the two of them at some fancy Italian restaurant.

He looked happy. Content, satisfied, at ease, whatever it was called when it came to Malfoy, he looked it. And it made her want to scream. Of course Malfoy looked content; of course he looked bloody satisfied with his perfect, rich, pureblood of a fiancée.

Looking at Asteria's expression didn't comfort Hermione either. Asteria could look at least a little disgusted with him, or at least a little unfocused. But no, she looked perfect, pristine, and just as damn happy to be with him as he did her. She couldn't take looking at their happy faces any longer as she chucked the whole edition into the fire.

She watched it burn for a few minutes before she regretted it. Malfoy wasn't worth the loss of her entire paper.

Looking at her watch, though, she realized she needed to get ready for work, and fast.

* * *

Grabbing some sliced caterpillars, Hermione added them into her potion. She stirred once before resetting her timer and returned to looking through her contract for the license to distribute the Jason Potion. She had been looking since her meeting with Malfoy. A whole day of looking and she'd come up with absolutely nothing, no loop holes to speak of whatsoever.

Hermione sighed, looking up from the contract. She was currently located in the research department of Malfoy Industries. The place, to her complete dislike, was a perfect workplace for researchers like her. It was very open, so no two researchers were vying for elbow room. The space allowed people privacy in some sense. The walls were lined with any ingredient you could ever need and there were loads of books with references in an adjacent room. The place was neat, clean, and devoid of distractions...and Hermione hated it. She hated how Malfoy was able to make her almost content with staying here and how he gave her little, if no reason at all, to leave. She only wished there was some book or ingredient that was pertinent to her research that he didn't have in stock. But they had everything.

Hermione felt a presence behind her. Figuring it to be her co-worker, Todd, walking by with another ingredient, she paid little attention to it.

Then to her surprise, out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone snatch something off her desk. She looked up to see Malfoy looking into her cauldron. He was staring at it intently, a bit too intently, if what she remembered about him still held value. "What are you doing?" she demanded, trying to break him from his thoughts.

He peered into the cauldron as if he could see his reflection, but Hermione knew that couldn't be possible. Then, he shifted in a way that allowed Hermione to see what he was holding in his right hand. It was a jar three-fourths full of Opaleye scales. Hermione turned crimson at him seeing that she still had them, before he popped open the jar.

He reached in and took a scale before grabbing a slicing tool from her desk. It was only then that she recovered enough from her complete shock to ask, "What are you doing?"

But by then he had already sliced the scale in fourths. Hermione realized he was actually going to harm her potion and went to stop him, but he kept her easily at bay, dropping the scale in.

"That should give us about five hours."

He then proceeded to walk away.

It took her a few moments to process what happened. He had come in, practically stormed over, forcibly halted her brewing process for half the day, therefore stopping her ability to work, and then just walked away.

Was this some kind of joke? Was it amusing to him for her to stop working? She now had to waste time in order to work on her cure, when normally it was the other way around.

How. Dare. He.

And just like that, she snapped. She stormed after him. "Malfoy!" she screamed, not caring who in the world heard - she'd be out of here by the end of next week if she had her way. "Who the bloody hell do you think you are? How dare you halt the process of my potion! Is what I do some kind of_ joke_ to you? How can you just invade a researcher's workspace? Do you know what you could have compromised? I have been working on this potion for two weeks! Malfoy! Malfoy!" Hermione screamed as she stormed after him into the lift room. He hadn't once looked back at her yet.

Was he trying to escape her? Did he think that would work? "Malfoy, don't think you can just leave without answering to me! I don't give a damn if you are my boss or not!"

She stopped the lift from closing before entering after him. He looked calmer than she wanted. She wanted guilt, regret, emotion, something! All she felt was a sense of...smugness?

"Malfoy, who do you think you are to just stop my potion from being brewed? Hmm?"

He didn't answer.

"Answer the question, Malfoy," she said in the most threatening way possible.

He let out a breath before looking casually her way, completely ignoring her anger. "I needed you to stop working for a while, and I figured that was the best way."

"Stop working? Why would a cold, calculating businessman like you want to pay someone to not work?"

He paused before continuing on as if she hadn't spoken, "I need you to go somewhere with me."

The lift chimed and the door slid open. "Go somewhere with you?" She balked, walking after him and past the secretary without a care in the world. "Fat chance, Malfoy." She stormed in after him into his office. Surprisingly, he held the door for her to go in first, but she was too angry to really notice, much less care. "I'm not someone you can just mess with, Malfoy. I'm not happy to be here and I'm not here to enact your ever-changing whims. I want you to give me _my_ right to distribute the Jason Potion, apologize for toying with my potion, and then let me resign so I never have to see your sodding face again!"

All the while, Hermione noticed he stopped paying attention to her words and had started looking her over. Hermione felt odd under his gaze, but she tried to ignore it and gave him the firmest look possible. She wasn't going to ever fall for this arse again. No matter how he looked at her.

He finally gave a shrug. "I suppose you look presentable enough. But here, you'll need this. You didn't bring a coat." Hermione caught something that he threw at her.

"What is going on here?" she demanded.

He then came toward her. Hermione tensed immediately. What was he doing? She tried to back away, but he caught her arm. Hermione would have attempted a repeat of yesterday, but she was still holding the coat he threw at her. He smirked at her, as if he'd read her thoughts. "Close your eyes," he said.

And the next thing Hermione knew, she was Apparating side-along.

* * *

They appeared in an open field. Hermione looked around. It was an open field, but it wasn't an empty field. The field held hundreds of tables and chairs, all facing a stage a little ways off from where they stood. She noted they were definitely early, for half the tables and chairs were still empty. Behind them, she saw a banner:

Welcome to WHO's Annual Picnic

Hermione knew about WHO. She often volunteered her time on weekends to its events. WHO stood for Wizard Health Organization. The organization specialized in raising funds and helping around the community for the curing and caring of wizards with wizarding diseases.

She looked back to Malfoy, who held a chair out for her. She smacked his hand away before taking her most annoyed stance. "What the hell are we doing here?"

"We are at the WHO Annual Picnic."

Hermione took a breath, trying to remain calm. "You know what I meant."

Malfoy looked to her, but his gaze quickly shifted to someone behind her. Smirking, he then looked away. Hermione turned to see who it was. To her utmost surprise, she saw a rather round woman in her mid-thirties come up to her, and if Hermione was right, her name was Josephine and she worked for WHO.

Luckily, the woman had a nametag on and Hermione was able to verify her assumption before - "Hermione!" the woman practically shouted as she came toward her. Hermione smiled awkwardly and was rewarded with a back-breaking hug. "It's so great to see you!" she said.

Smiling, Hermione tried to figure out what she had done to be worthy of such enthusiasm, or was it perhaps Josephine was this happy to greet everyone? She took Hermione's hands in hers before sitting, taking Hermione with her. "I wanted to be the first to thank you."

"Thank _me_?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Yes, for making the Jason Potion free. That's so lovely of you, dear, to not want anything in return for your hard work. WHO members in Australia are raving about it. And they wanted to come and personally thank you, but of course the news was announced so last minute..." Hermione's thoughts reeled. Her potion was free? But that couldn't be; how could it be free when it was in the tight grasp of Malfoy? "…and for you, Draco," Josephine said, leaning around Hermione, "to allow such a thing, for your company to offer your services free of charge." She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide her glee. "I can't thank you two enough."

"…Er," Hermione began.

"It's my pleasure," Draco interjected. "To give back to the community in a way like this is most fulfilling, and Hermione here didn't want to have it any other way."

Hermione refused the urge to turn and outright stare at Malfoy in confusion, and instead smiled at Josephine. "I just didn't want another witch or wizard to suffer because of Billywig Syndrome."

"May Merlin bless you," Josephine said, giving Hermione's hands a squeeze.

Suddenly a voice boomed over the air above them, "Josephine Rosen to the stage, please. Josephine Rosen."

"Oh! Well, that's me," Josephine said, standing. "It was so lovely to talk to you two, I can't thank you two enough for what you've done." Hermione smiled and nodded as Josephine made her way to the front of the get-together.

And then they were alone.

Hermione turned forward in her seat and stared blankly ahead. "My potion is free?" Despite the confirmation she received from Josephine, it still felt surreal.

"To all that have a healer's notice diagnosing them with Billywig Syndrome."

"Malfoy Industries is going to brew and send my potion out to patients free? No one takes profit?"

"That would be the definition of free, Hermione."

It then hit her. Her potion was free. No one would ever again have to pay to receive treatment. No one would ever again have to suffer due to lack of money for her treatment. There'd be no money. But..."Why?"

"That's what you asked for, isn't it? That was your major concern over Malfoy Industries keeping the contract of the Jason Potion?"

"Yes, but -"

"Then problem solved."

The conversation was done. Hermione could tell by the finality of his tone. But Hermione didn't want it to be done; she still had so many questions. What did he take from this? Was this Malfoy being selfless?

None of it made sense anymore and Hermione knew he was done discussing it, but she needed to say one more thing. "Thank you."

She wasn't sure he had heard her. He didn't react to it, simply acknowledged a colleague who soon came over and began to talk to him.

Hermione was also graced with the presence of another member of WHO, and was unable to talk to Malfoy any longer.

* * *

The picnic ended with a nice long round of applause for the members who put it together, and Hermione had to admit she had a wonderful time meeting fellow healers and researchers. It was nice to just talk to people who held her same interests, who understood exactly what she was talking about.

Turning to face Malfoy, Hermione's mind began screaming at her. Despite sitting next to him throughout the festivities, she hadn't had a chance to talk to him much and she had questions that needed answering. She wanted to ask him to clarify how and why he had made her potion free. She wanted to question his motives. She wanted to interrogate him. But no time had seemed right.

Glancing at her watch, Hermione noted it was 3:30. She had only half an hour before she needed to continue brewing her potion. Interrogations would have to wait. She was about to tell Malfoy that she could Apparate on her own, before realizing she didn't have her wand.

She suddenly felt bare without it. She wondered how she could have gone for so long without noticing. She remembered it was still at her desk, and she hadn't thought to grab it when she had stormed off after Malfoy.

After bidding one of his colleagues goodbye, Malfoy stood and she had no other choice but to follow him. To her surprise, he turned toward her and took her hand. Hermione followed his hand in hers up to his face where he was openly staring back at her. Hermione could feel her cheeks burn, but her pride kept her from looking away. "Ready?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes as she always did when she Apparated, simply because she felt it helped her feel less nauseous by the end of it. The next second when she opened her eyes, she was back in Malfoy's office.

Releasing her hand, he turned and headed for his desk. She could feel the questions bubbling once again in her mind. "You should still have twenty minutes to spare before you can resume your potion brewing -"

"Why did you do it?" Hermione blurted out, her subconscious winning over her rational mind. Her subconscious always chose the most inopportune times to speak for itself.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asked, turning around to face her.

Yes and no. She had mainly said it to shut Malfoy up at the time; she had never thought he'd actually do it. "I want a more specific answer, Malfoy."

"I merely did as you asked, Hermione…" Hermione stopped listening then. He had called her "Hermione". Was he really going to continue calling her that? And then it occurred to her, was this all because he was trying to use her again? Was this a trap he wanted her to fall into?

She stood stiffly at this newfound possibility and watched as he took a step toward her. She couldn't let that happen, no matter what. "This doesn't change anything, Malfoy. Just because you did this doesn't mean I'm going to fall at your feet and do as you bid. I'm not some toy to be played with." And without another word, Hermione left the room and slammed the door for good measure.

She stood outside his door, trying to compose herself. She repeated to herself that it didn't matter what he did, she wasn't going to change her mind about how she felt about him. This was just some act and he was using her…right?

But she didn't know. She didn't know for sure what his motives were, and she couldn't say for sure if her exit was too hasty after his nice gesture, but with their history she couldn't imagine any other reason that he'd do something like this for her.

She realized when she was waiting for the lift that she was still wearing his coat. She took it off abruptly and flung it back at his closed door before she entered the lift, ignoring his secretary staring at her in confusion.

Standing in the lift, Hermione tried to figure out what Malfoy's new gesture meant, her mind cycling through all the possibilities.

* * *

Draco poured himself a cup of tea. He took a sip before there was knock on the door. Not bothering to wonder who it was, he took another sip and watched the door open. "Mr. Malfoy?" It was his secretary, Mia. She was an obedient secretary; she didn't ask questions and did her job right. "Some things came for you while you were away."

She walked them over and placed them on his desk. "Thank you," he said. She hesitated for a moment as if she was going to say something, but then decided against it and left.

When the door closed, Draco put down his tea to see what she had brought in.

He didn't get through the first letter before he let out a desolate sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to process what had just happened.

Why was she doing this? Was it really too much for her to just accept a nice gesture? She had said it was the reason she didn't want him to keep the potion in his company.

"_I'll figure out a way without you, Malfoy. I don't want you to reap benefits off of my cure for people that need it."_

What exactly did she want from him? He'd given her what she asked for, but by the way she reacted it was like she didn't want it at all. In fact, she looked stupefied when she found out. He knew that she wouldn't have believed him if he had told her, which is why he opted for the third party to break the news. But was it really that hard to believe that he'd give up some money to do something for her? To show her he cared?

"_Just because you did this doesn't mean I'm going to fall at your feet and do as you bid. I'm not some toy to be played with."_

Who exactly was the toy here? If anyone, wasn't he the one played by her? But regardless, he really thought this would change things. He thought she'd soften up, try to act civil and at least approach the waters of acquaintanceship. He knew he couldn't go so far as saying friendship, seeing her reaction to him during their first meeting, but he didn't think his actions would fail to induce any sort of softening on her part.

Behind Draco, there was a tapping sound. He turned and recognized the animal as the family hawk, Phoenix. Draco let the bird in, and it flew and landed on the perch Draco kept in his office for that purpose. Draco walked over and stroked the bird gently while taking the letter from its grasp. He opened it.

_Draco,_

_Don't forget to come home early today. We are picking out the wedding theme colors._

It wasn't signed. But Draco recognized the handwriting well enough to be his mother's. He read the contents of the letter once again before placing it in the vanishing bin. He opened the window for Phoenix to leave when he wished, and then sat back in his seat.

The wedding. Just the thought of it being a month away hurt. There was no other way to describe it. Being engaged to Asteria was bad enough, but to marry her, to have her as his forever, was a painful notion.

But marry her he would, because what choice did he have? His mother was so excited for this wedding to happen. The wedding had lifted her spirits so much that she had started to recover these past few months. How was he supposed to deny his mother happiness?

Draco pushed aside his thoughts and delved into his paperwork, trying to forget about the wedding for the next few hours.

* * *

**November 2001  
Outside Quinell's Ice Cream**

Draco headed for the ice cream parlor. He had looked everywhere for Hermione and still hadn't located her yet. Partly to his dismay, the only reason he was heading for the ice cream shop was because one of Hermione's coworkers from the Ministry had given him the tip. Did he really know that little about Hermione? Granted, they had only been dating for a few months, but he thought he'd be able to at least know where she was by now.

When he finally reached the place, he sighed in relief at finding her sitting at a small table looking concentrated in thought. Yes, he knew she could take care of herself, but that didn't mean he didn't worry.

He walked over to her table and stood in front of her. It took a few moments for her gaze to travel up to his. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm eating ice cream."

Draco didn't know whether to be annoyed or not, considering her literal response was probably a jab at his habit of literally responding to her questions. He decided to simply continue to stare at her until she gave in. It didn't take too long before she rolled her eyes and replied, "It helps me think." And with that she took another bite.

Ice cream was a dessert, meaning it was supposed to be eaten once every week at most and not any other time, not to mention it was completely unhealthy in large amounts. "That cannot be healthy."

Her response was to take a large spoonful and place it in her mouth. Draco rolled his eyes. She was such a child sometimes. But that's what he liked about her. He liked that she wasn't afraid to be independent, wasn't restricted by common wizarding practices, or etiquette for that matter. She always did as she pleased and made him feel he could do so as well.

"Why are you here?" He heard her garble through her still full mouth. At least she had the decency to cover her mouth as she said it.

"Can't I just sit with my girlfriend on a Tuesday?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

He smiled at how well she knew him. "The Australian branch of Malfoy Industries is ready to open."

"Oh?" she asked, as the food was no longer in her mouth.

"We need employees," he continued.

She nodded. Was she going to make him spell it out for her?

"Preferably ones with some experience."

She took a bite of ice cream again, and he waited for her response. She finally looked to him. "What?" she asked, appalled at his gaze.

Draco gave a sigh. "Would you like to work at my company?"

Her face lit up. But in a way that wasn't what he expected. It was a look he normally got from her when she finally got what she wanted. She sighed, deciding to let him in on it. "I submitted an application two days ago." He stared at her. How could she have possibly done that? "There was a 'hiring now' ad in the paper."

He then remembered his staff telling him about an advertisement. "Then why didn't you just say so?"

"Giving you a taste of your own medicine," she said, smiling coyly.

He rolled his eyes, concluding his earlier thought with an affirmative yes, before taking the ice cream away from her. "This isn't healthy."

Her jaw dropped before she snatched at it, but he kept it easily out of her reach.

* * *

**March 10th, 2004  
Hermione's Flat**

Hermione sat on her couch, staring out the window. It was Saturday, and Ron was over. It was a cold day and he offered to make hot chocolate. He was talking to her about something while he was in the kitchen, but the moment he physically left her sight, her mind began to drift and circle back to the thoughts she needed to sort through in her head. Even after having a couple of days to think it all over, it still didn't make sense.

Malfoy had made the Jason Potion free. He had done as she asked. He was being…nice? She didn't know the proper word for it. Why was he doing what he was doing? He was always a puzzle. Just when she thought she had broken the code, when she thought that she had stripped away all the confusion and finally understood who he was and how he worked, he had to go and do something like this.

Free. What did he have to gain from it? Not money, but perhaps the recognition? She still remembered Josephine's face when she thanked Hermione, and she hadn't been the only one. Perhaps that's all it was, a way for him to gain a little favor in the public eye. He'd done it before.

But then why did he pick _her_ potion? She refused to believe his "I did it for you" excuse; there had to be more to it. Why did he pick something that would only affect how those in Australia thought of him? The potion wouldn't cure a worldwide epidemic. It wasn't something that would get much attention here. It would receive some, but not to the extent if he had made another potion, like the Wolfsbane Potion, free. But perhaps it was because it wouldn't be a big financial burden that he had chosen her potion.

And then if it simply was just that business side of it – because that was the only side that made sense, considering the way he felt about her – why hadn't he just pointed it out?

"_That's what you asked for, isn't it? That was your major concern over Malfoy Industries keeping the contract of the Jason Potion?" _

She hadn't asked for it. She had only said it as an excuse to get away from him, but he had gone out of his way to do it. Why?

What was he trying to tell her?

And then her mind landed once again on the most painfully obvious probability of why he was doing all of this, the same conclusion her mind had automatically jumped to when she was in his office: because he could. It could be that he just liked messing with her head, manipulating her to do as he wished, because in the end, isn't that what he had done last time? Isn't that what he did? In business she had seen it all the time. Perhaps he was bored?

Her thoughts were cut off when the warm smell of chocolate began emanating from under her nose.

She looked to see a mug of steaming hot chocolate under her. "Here," Ron said. She took the cup from him gingerly. Her hands blazed with the new heat. He had come over for dinner that night. She tried to be interesting company, but any time there was a pause, another man entered her thoughts. She took a sip, her body thanking her with the warmth that filled her. She pulled a blanket over the two of them.

"Hermione, are you listening?" he asked.

Hermione's mind was suddenly doing backflips trying to go through her memory. No, she hadn't been listening. She had hoped he wouldn't notice, but now that she was caught in the act of not paying attention, she didn't know what to say. She shook her head slowly.

He smiled. "Head off in the clouds again?" She nodded. "We had a breakthrough in the case today."

"Which one?" she asked, feeling her face redden like a tomato at being so completely clueless.

"The case about the group that tried to assassinate the Minister last month."

"Oh, that's excellent, Ron. Really fantastic."

He nodded. "We have reason to believe they are in Canada."

She felt her smile fade slightly. Did that mean… "Does that mean you are leaving again?" she asked.

She knew it was too good to be true to really think that his job didn't require him to be on the move all the time. "Not yet, but perhaps soon. I wanted to give you a warning about it, though, in case it does happen abruptly."

Hermione nodded. She remembered the last time he left; it was right before they started dating again. He had left for a month, without much word. He couldn't write her, and she couldn't write him because it could be too easily intercepted by the Death Eaters. So she simply spent the time worrying about him, worrying about Harry, wondering if the two of them were safe.

"Aw, cheer up, Hermione. It'll only be a couple of weeks at most." Hermione let out a small smile. If Ron left her now, how was she supposed to cope with Malfoy? She needed him to be there to distract her. "And besides, it seems you have a lot on your plate right now."

Hermione wrinkled her brow. "What do you mean?"

"I've been here about an hour, and you obviously haven't been listening throughout half of the nonsense I've been talking about." He paused, and Hermione could see a revelation had come to him. "So I'm done ignoring it. Just tell me what's on your mind."

Hermione sighed. "Nothing," she said. She didn't know how to tell him. Not when she hadn't even straightened it out in her own head yet.

"Does 'nothing' have to do with work?" he probed.

Hermione looked to him. He was looking straight at her. He didn't look like he was going to let it slide this time. And from his expression, it seemed he knew he was reaching her breaking point.

"What happened?" he asked.

Hermione sighed; she had been hiding it from him all night. And now having him point out that she ignored him, she felt she owed him. And perhaps it was time to tell him. She couldn't hide everything forever, and perhaps talking about it could help her figure it all out.

She took a breath. "The Jason Potion is free," she said, looking at him through the corner of her eye to try and gauge his response.

His eyes widened in surprise and appreciation. "Brilliant," he said. "That's _good,_ isn't it?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"You don't exactly look happy about it."

Hermione shook her head. "No, that's not the problem. It's just… why would Malfoy do that?"

Ron gave a lazy shrug. "Perhaps to boost his perception in society. Everyone knows he donates to St. Mungo's every year."

Ron didn't see it, did he? But then again, what had she expected? For him to put all the pieces of that missing year together because Draco made her potion free? Hermione took a sip of her chocolate. She didn't want to tell Ron everything yet, but she wanted his help, too.

She looked down. "That's true, but now with that, I don't know if I should continue working for him or not."

"You know, I have to ask you this, Hermione. Is the Malfoy building crawling with pure-blooded purists who try to Avada you every chance they get?" he said with the most serious face he could muster.

Hermione looked up through her lashes at him, letting out her first laugh since what felt like a long time. "No, Ron, there aren't pure-blooded 'purists' trying to Avada me every chance they get."

"Is there no room to stand, funding low, things like that?" he continued.

"No." She couldn't help but extend the word into half a question.

"You see, Hermione, that's my problem with all this. I don't understand why you hate him that much. You were the one in school telling me to just ignore him, that he wasn't worth it and all that. But now, all of a sudden, you don't want to be near him."

He then proceeded to stare at her, like if he looked at her long enough he'd figure everything out. But she knew he wouldn't unless she told him. But, that was the question, wasn't it? Should she?

She could feel her heartbeat quicken. There was so much he needed to know that she was unwilling to reveal. But perhaps she had already revealed too much, because now he was staring at her, expecting some explanation.

She really only had one besides the truth. "I thought you hated him!"

"I do." He nodded, but continued with the same serious face.

"Are you saying I should work for him?"

At that he shrugged. "I don't know, Hermione. It's your work, really. If his company is as awful as you seem to feel it is, then you should quit."

"You sound like you want me to work there."

"It is Malfoy. I heard the arse's company had some of the best facilities in the country."

And now that made sense to Hermione. He thought she'd have the best chance at being successful in her work there, which was true, to Hermione's dismay.

"I thought you wanted me to work at the Ministry," she tried again.

"Yes, but I'm warning you that I've been down to the researching floor. It's a mess. They can barely get funding."

Hermione took a sip of her chocolate, thinking. Should she continue to work for him? Was it really that bad after all? She would have to put up with the insufferable bastard, but that would mean she could use his resources, sparing funds that that Ministry could use elsewhere. And perhaps she wouldn't see him all that much, anyway; they had no direct business with each other.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him.

"What is it that is really bothering you about that company?" he asked.

Hermione leaned back against the couch. Yes, what else? Oh, how about the CEO happened to be her ex, who she happened to never want to see ever again. But she could admit, begrudgingly, that the way Ron was pitching it to her, the pros did outweigh the cons. She sighed; she couldn't believe she was going to say this. "I suppose when you think about it that way, it'd be best if I stayed where I was."

"Good."

"What?" She was confused. "Good? You want me to work there?"

"Of course, use up all the bastard's money." And the real truth came out. Hermione only laughed. She tried to convince herself that working in close quarters with Malfoy couldn't be all that bad. They wouldn't see each other, she'd use up all his money, and if she was lucky, she'd blow up the place in an "accident" and cause him to lose millions to remodel the place.

It'll be okay, she tried to convince herself, until she realized she was repeating the phrase in her head over and over, and an awful feeling began to build in her stomach.

* * *

_A/N: So Hermione's staying at the company after all; Draco should be pleased. __Stay tuned for the next chapter :)_

_And thanks for reading and reviewing! It really does make my day. _

_Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	4. Chapter 4

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope you guys like this one :)**

**Thanks to my beta, Yuli, for all the beautiful commas. I couldn't do it without you :D**

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

**March 12th, 2004  
3:04 PM**

Hermione followed Katie out of the store with a bag in hand. She had finally found a dress she liked. The task, being a difficult one in and of itself, was made more difficult considering the event it was for. She always found it harder to find outfits for events she didn't wish to attend.

But ignoring that, the dress was perfect for her. It wasn't too flashy, and yet not too simple. It fit her well without making her feel like she was going to be squeezed in half.

She looked to her shopping partner. "Thanks for coming with me, Katie. I know shopping with me is a bother." They had been shopping for at least five hours now.

Katie laughed. "No problem, look at how much shopping I've done," she said, holding up a plethora of bags. They both laughed. Shopping was one of Katie's specialties.

Hermione had always been a bit closer to Katie Bell than any of the other girls throughout her years at Hogwarts. All the girls her year were dreamers with their heads in the clouds; they seemed to always want to rely on Divination and things that were unworldly. Sometimes, when she wanted to escape them, she'd go and see Katie, who always seemed to understand Hermione and didn't have her head wandering off in some strange place.

But the first time Hermione had really become good friends with Katie was when she went back to Hogwarts for her seventh year. Katie had returned as well, in order to get the proper credentials and NEWTs she hadn't been able to receive with Dumbledore's death and Umbridge's idea of an education.

They were making their way to an Apparition spot when Hermione fell back suddenly, the consequence of having run into someone. She made to apologize repeatedly, seeing as the person had dropped their bag.

It was a girl, but it wasn't until Hermione had fully gotten her bearings that she was able to see the woman's face. "I'm so s-" When she did, her heart stopped.

"Oh, I'm the one that's sorry. It's my fault, really. My parents are always telling me that I need to really watch where I'm walking."

Hermione fought the urge to grit her teeth. "I'm still sorry, I should have been watching where I was going." Hermione fought the strong urge to hex the girl.

"Hey, you're Hermione Granger." Hermione forced a smile. "My sister was in the same year as you, same with my fiancé. My name is Asteria Greengrass."

Hermione hoped her face didn't reveal too much during the last parts of the girl's statement. She continued to force the smile. "Nice to meet you, Asteria. How are they doing?" she asked, struggling to remain collected.

Asteria smiled a joyful smile, one that made Hermione cringe internally from the happiness. "Well, you work for Draco, don't you? You must see him all the time then, he's _always_ at work."

Her patience with his bubbly fiancée was like a ticking time bomb. Questions were beginning to wander into her mind. Questions that Hermione had been dying to find answers to for so long. Questions that she had effectively shut into her subconscious were suddenly re-emerging from their locked place. "Oh, well his company is so big one doesn't really see him much."

Her subconscious was screaming: how long have you been seeing Draco?

"I see. That makes sense, I suppose. I've heard you're dating Ron Weasley."

Did the girl _know _who Hermione was_?_ "Oh, it's nothing official." What was she trying to figure out?

"Of course it is, you two have been together forever. Did you get an invitation to my wedding? I..." Was she trying to rub it in? And if the girl thought that Hermione would want to sit through that miserable, lousy, cheating bastard's wedding for even half a second –

"Hermione, we're late."

Hermione was cut off from her thoughts. Remembering Katie's presence, she turned to her and saw that she was gesturing for them to leave. Liking the proposition very much, Hermione looked down to her wrist watch. "Indeed, it looks like we are. I'm sorry we couldn't chat longer, but we really must go," Hermione said. And with that pathetic excuse for a good bye, Katie grabbed Hermione and the two of them walked past a very confused Asteria Greengrass and soon Apparated to Katie's house.

* * *

They landed on Katie's front porch. Her parents had passed during the war and had left her a large estate. They entered the room and the door had barely closed before Hermione began raging. "Do you believe her nerve?!" Hermione demanded. "Inviting me to her wedding? Who the bloody hell does she think she is?"

She knew Katie was watching her silently, but it didn't matter to Hermione. She was furious. "She must know about me, she has to. There is no way that they could have really gotten to know and fallen in love with each other in two weeks, and I know for a fact it wasn't arranged!"

"Hermione." She heard the voice, but ignored it. She still had things to say.

"Who in Merlin's name does she think she is?"

"Hermione."

"She's lucky that you pulled me out of there or I would have lost it -"

"Hermione!" She paused in her rant, glancing at Katie. "Did it occur to you that Draco hid you from her?"

Realization dawned a bit on Hermione, who realized that it was indeed a possibility. After all, he hadn't exactly told Hermione about Asteria. She deflated slightly. "Oh."

"She might not know about you at all."

Hermione sighed, collapsing on the couch next to Katie. "I suppose you're right. I'm just still worked up over the whole issue, especially with Draco being my boss again and everything."

"Have you told Ron yet?" Katie asked.

Hermione looked to Katie like she had gone bonkers. "Are you crazy? What's he going to think?"

"You need to tell him, or else it'll keep boiling inside of you."

Sighing, she put her hands on her face. "I know."

"So you'll do it then?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet. I'm not ready yet." She knew she was being selfish. She wouldn't have an honest relationship with Ron until he knew about Draco, but she still wasn't ready to divulge that part of her again. She was still trying to look at it as the past, and it wasn't easy.

"You have to some time." Hermione closed her eyes. Yes, she knew she needed to tell Ron at some point, it was just that she didn't know how he'd react. She was worried, that much was for sure. The only person that really knew about Draco was Katie, as she was the only person Hermione could really tell when she came back from Australia after it had all happened. By the time Ron had returned a month or so later, she had completely closed up on the subject, and the wait was just making it harder for her to reveal.

"I'll do it soon," she said, promising Katie, but mostly trying to just convince herself.

* * *

**March 20th, 2004  
****Morgan Gardens, Avalon**

Sitting in one of the many seats laid out for the guests, Hermione stood and watched Daphne Greengrass walk down the aisle on her wedding day. She looked breathtaking. Her groom, Ernie Macmillan, was waiting for her at the end. Their wedding was picturesque; the two of them complimented each other in looks, the flowers and other decorations surrounding them were stunning, and the location itself - in the midst of the secluded gardens of Avalon – just topped it all off.

The wedding was not small. But when did purebloods not aim for the biggest and best? This was another pureblood marriage. And despite it being beautiful here, with the bride and groom beaming and the crowd happy for everyone, Hermione couldn't get over the fact that it was a _pureblood_ marriage.

Even after everything, after the war, after what happened, after what she had fought for, they were only going to repeat the process and come full cycle if purebloods continued their skewed way of thinking.

Sure, it was tradition, it was expected, and their idea of normal. But to Hermione, it was outrageous restricting these people to only marrying a certain type of person, a type that wasn't even chosen by them, a type that you were born with and couldn't affect at all. She hated the superiority that pureblood marriages represented. They basically told the rest of the wizarding world that they just weren't good enough.

And what was worse was that her presence was almost supporting it, supporting the marriage of two purebloods and hence the rejection of people like her. She didn't want to come at all; it was Ron who convinced her, saying Ernie was his co-worker and that it would have been impolite to not go. But in all honesty, politeness didn't extend to supportiveness, even if it appeared so.

Hermione had been an underdog since she had found this world when she was eleven. She was never good enough. She could get the highest grades in her year, but she was still only _Muggle-born_. She could help fight and rescue wizarding Britain from a sociopath's reign, but still she was just the _Muggle-born_. She hadn't been able to escape it throughout her entire life.

Even Malfoy had pushed her off the "acceptable" candidates list for dating simply because of her blood. After a year, he had just left her. She wasn't even worthy of a goodbye. She had been just a way to pass time.

Of course, he hadn't told this to her straight out. But Hermione knew.

* * *

**February 2003  
****Hermione's Flat  
****Australia**

Awakening to a Sunday morning, Hermione rolled over in her bed looking for Draco. It was cold and she figured he would be easier to find than the blankets. But to her surprise, her hand was only able to locate the bed sheets.

She sat up groggily. Where had he gone? The bathroom perhaps? She looked toward it, but saw the door was open and, to her confusion, Draco wasn't in it. Her mind began to reel, though it was hard to think through the fog of morning. Where was he? She rolled off the bed, found a robe, and put it on.

Continuing her search, Hermione realized all his clothes were gone, including his shoes. She went over to the nightstand and looked for a note which he sometimes left her when a meeting came up, but there was none.

She padded into her living room and began to search for any clue that would tell her where he was. He never just left without a word. He never just disappeared without telling her.

Not knowing whether to be furious or worried, Hermione quickly wrote on a piece of parchment and put on decent clothing before heading to the building's owlery. She attached the note onto one of her more favorite owls before telling the owl to nip Draco when it found him.

The owl returned around noon with the note removed from its leg, but there was no response. Hermione tried to calm the panic that started to settle in.

* * *

**March 20th, 2004  
****Morgan Gardens, Avalon**

She was here. Of course; it was only logical. She was Hermione Granger, one of the three most famous wizards in Britain. Everyone who was anyone wanted any of the three at their get-togethers. And after her re-pairing with _him_, inviting one got the other. It looked good, especially for pureblood families.

The war was over, yes. But that didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things. It didn't mean that purebloods changed their stand on blood status. It didn't mean that purebloods suddenly saw the light and decided that the intermixing of blood was good. They were too conditioned for that, especially the older generations. He couldn't even imagine how his parents would react if they found out about Hermione. Part of him didn't want to.

But for Draco, blood ceased to mean anything a long time ago. It was before he left school that he started questioning its true value, especially when he fell for Tracey Davis in fifth year. She was half-blood, but she was more beautiful than any other pureblood at Hogwarts. She tried to keep her blood a secret, so he didn't find out until sixth year that she was a half-blood, but by then, he already had feelings for her.

Then there was the war, a war that even the mightiest purebloods couldn't win. It put things in perspective for him. And once he met Hermione in Australia, blood status had ceased to mean anything.

He couldn't help but chance a glance over at her again. She was across the aisle toward the center of her row. Asteria was more toward the front, busy as a bridesmaid, so he had taken a seat next to Greg, who had come alone.

She looked puzzled. He didn't understand why. This was a wedding, what need was there to be puzzled? He watched as she turned to face her boyfriend. He couldn't see the smile on her face, but he knew it was there. He watched as he took her hand and she leaned into him.

Draco controlled his breathing, before realizing his fists were clenched. He relaxed them and resigned himself to staring straight ahead for the rest of the ceremony.

* * *

**March 22nd, 2004  
Malfoy Industries  
London Branch**

Sitting at her lab space in Malfoy Industries, Hermione read through her book on Dark magic. Her current work was on curing burns of Fiendfyre. She knew there were burn pastes out there, but none of them seemed to have any effect on Dark magic burns, such as those of Fiendfyre. They were almost counterproductive to burns of that sort.

After the Final Battle, Hermione had seen more than enough people with wounds that couldn't be cured, tissue that was too scarred to be repaired. And she wanted to fix that. In addition, Fiendfyre was a popular spell among people using the Dark Arts, and it was known for being completely uncontrollable.

So far the cure had eluded her. It seemed when she got close the effects would melt off gradually and the burns would return. She needed something to make the paste last longer and be more permanent.

There was a chime, and Hermione looked over to her kettle. A soupy, brown, bubbling mixture was brewing. Hermione took some graphorn powder and sprinkled it over her potion. Graphorn powder was known as a cooling agent in some pastes, and perhaps it was what her potion needed.

She stirred the mix a few times before sitting back and watching for any possible effects. After a few moments, the mixture began to stop bubbling and turned to a bluish color. Taking a bit of it with a ladle, she looked over to find her samples of burned tissue. She covered the cells with a light covering of her newest concoction and waited.

After a few moments, Hermione cast a Magnifying Spell over the dish and, looking in, saw there was no effect. Letting out a huff in frustration, Hermione sat back and started to think. What was she missing? Burned tissue needed to be replenished, so the burns needed to either be reversed, which she had tried to no success, or the tissue had to somehow regenerate. She had the regenerating agents, but why was the concoction not permanent?

Sensing a presence, Hermione looked up to see Hannah, one of her co-workers. "Any luck?" Hannah asked, peering over Hermione's shoulder to look into the dish.

Sighing, Hermione shook her head. She turned to face Hannah. "Not yet, you?"

Hannah shook her head. "Nothing."

Hannah was the person that worked next to Hermione. She was a nice, cheerful middle-aged woman, and not the type of person you'd expect in research. She loved to talk and spent a lot of time mingling with other people. But Hermione never really minded. She was better company than some of the stuffy, stuck up people she had to call co-workers.

Hermione then noticed Hannah was carrying some more petri dishes marked "Grataro Fungus". Hannah was working on a cure for it. To Hermione, Grataro Fungus was very similar to Muggle athlete's foot, except a little more extreme. Grataro Fungus wasn't easy to contain and spread like wildfire around the body. Worst of all was that the "cure" was mostly removal and replacement of skin. It wasn't a comfortable procedure.

"Want some?" Hermione offered her potion to Hannah. It was a common practice between them. When a potion didn't work for one virus, they tried it on another. Rarely did it work, but not trying would leave so much to waste.

"Sure," Hannah said, offering Hermione one of her petri dishes before going off to place the others in her work area. Hermione took some of her concoction and put it in Hannah's petri dish. Not expecting much, she turned to Hannah to talk to her more.

"How was the wedding?" Hannah asked, Transfiguring a stack of her old paperwork into a stool.

"Beautiful," Hermione said.

"Very _pureblood_?" Hannah asked for clarification. Hannah knew Hermione's stand on the whole "pureblood" society. And Hannah, being less than a half-blood, empathized her sentiments.

"You wouldn't believe," Hermione said. "They might as well have put up a sign that said, 'This is a pureblood wedding, meaning we are better than you.'"

The two of them laughed a little before Hermione turned half-heartedly to her new petri dish. She cast her Magnifying Spell once again and the lid of the dish began to magnify the contents beneath it. Hermione gave it a quick glance without much thought before doing a double take. She looked in closer, while magnifying the contents. "Hannah, are you sure those dishes had affected cells?"

Hannah's mouth dropped before coming closer. Hermione gave her the dish. "Yes, I'm positive."

The two of them looked at each other, before Hermione looked to the awaiting dishes at Hannah's workspace. The two of them ran over and Hermione grabbed one and examined the contents. Positive it was contaminated with Grataro Fungus, Hermione took it back to her workspace and put some of her concoction on it. The two of them fought for the best viewing angle of the tiny petri dish. Hermione's eyes began to bulge as she couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Merlin's beard," Hannah's voice came as they watched, "you did it."

They looked at each other in shock, before Hermione quickly cast an Aging Spell to see if the effects wore off. They didn't. The cells looked new and healthy. Hannah quickly wrapped her arms around Hermione. "You did it! You cured Grataro Fungus!"

Hermione couldn't help but embrace her in return. This was the moment researchers lived for: success.

* * *

It had been three hours since her amazing discovery. Hermione was still beaming and bubbling from within. It was all over the research department, and even her boss had congratulated her.

But now was the part she wasn't sure she was excited about: sharing this information with the CEO. He had obviously heard the information, because she had just received a message that he wanted to see her while she was in the midst of writing an owl to Ron to tell him about her success.

Malfoy just had to ruin all happy moments.

Taking a breath, she stepped out of the elevator and headed over to the secretary, who let Hermione in at once. Standing outside Malfoy's door, Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm her ever changing nerves whenever Malfoy came into the picture.

She opened the door and let herself in. Closing the door behind her, she looked around, locating him on one of the adjacent walls from the one where she stood. His back was turned to her, and Hermione noted he was brewing a pot of tea. She put on her best professional attitude. "You asked to see me, sir?"

"Yes, have a seat," he said, taking a glance at her as he finished making his tea. He was wearing Muggle attire: a clean cut black suit, white shirt, waistcoat, and tie. His hair was done how it was always done when he was in public, casually swept over on one side without being messy in a way that seemed like it could have been done in seconds or hours. Hermione knew for a fact it was a time in between.

She refused to form an opinion on how he looked in Muggle clothes. To her embarrassment, however, he caught her staring. "Oh, this?" He gestured to his clothes. "I just came from a meeting with some Muggle entrepreneurs. We're thinking about letting some of our potions out into the Muggle market."

He gestured for her to take a seat and she did while watching him take his seat. He placed a cup of tea in front of her, though she ignored it. She waited as he sat back and began sipping his tea. "I hear you found a cure." Nodding, Hermione opened her mouth to begin to explain. "For Grataro Fungus?"

She took in a breath before explaining, "The concoction didn't work on Fiendfyre infected wounds, so I tried some of it on Hannah's dishes, and it worked." He nodded, not showing any emotion; he simply stared at her. "Is there any reason I'm here, sir?"

"Please, call me Draco," he said, his voice losing its business tone.

She paused before pushing on, "You haven't answered my question," purposely leaving out a title altogether.

He smirked, her choice of words not going unnoticed. "I like to congratulate my employees on their accomplishments," he said, taking a sip from his tea.

"Do you?" she questioned skeptically.

He nodded. "Indeed, it's always nice when we have the potential to add a new product to our inventory."

Hermione didn't miss his implications. There was, of course, the Board that needed to clear the potion before it got on the market.

But she wasn't exactly planning to leave the potion in his company's hands. "I want the rights to it."

"Why?" he asked. Hermione could feel his frustration as he put down his tea and began to look at her in_ that_ way, the way that made Hermione's emotions seal off. Because when he looked at her that way, it meant he was reading her. It meant he was gathering information to which he'd form a conclusion which was almost always annoyingly spot on.

She waited patiently for his conclusion. "Do you want it to be free of charge again?" he asked.

She debated her options. She could tell him a lie, or a half-truth for that matter. But the more she thought about it, the truth was the best option. "I don't need your charity, Malfoy. I want the rights so that I know it will be distributed the way I want it to, and not dictated by your Board. I know that's possible, I know it's been done. I don't mind if you do the distributing, but I want the documents to it so if I wish to leave I know I will always have the potion distributed the way I want it to be."

"Are you planning to leave?" he asked. She purposely ignored his worried tone.

"That is no business of yours."

"I'd say it is; you're my employee."

"And since when do you care about what each and every one of your employees plans to do?" she accused.

"I'd say starting when they create profits for me," he retorted back.

Hermione scoffed. "Sure. Stay out of my personal life, Malfoy."

"Has someone offered you more money?" he asked suddenly, giving her a look of...anger?

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"What do they have, better funding, better facilities?" This was getting ridiculous. "You want a raise?"

"There is no other company," she said exasperatedly.

"Then where are you going?"

"Nowhere!"

"But if you aren't planning to leave, then why would you want the rights?" he said, more slowly.

"Because they are mine to begin with," she said, trying to pronounce each word clearly in the hopes that maybe it would get through his thick head.

He wrote that off immediately. "That isn't true. The potion was made in my building; the rights belong to me."

"Then I am asking you to give them to me."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Why do you care?" she pressed back.

"I'm your boss, Hermione, and as your boss, I'm trying to do what's best for you as my worker and for my clients."

"Then it would be in _this_ employee's best interest if you handed the rights to her potion to her."

"What could you possibly gain from that? It would be more beneficial to you if the rights stayed here. It would be more helpful in terms of delivering the potion to those who need it."

"I don't need your help," she said, her teeth beginning to grind.

"Is that what this is about, me helping you?"

"No, I just want the rights." She could feel the adrenaline pumping in her now. This was getting nowhere. Why was he fighting it so badly? She knew what she was asking wasn't out of line. He just wanted to make her life a living hell.

He ignored her statement, continuing, "I'm trying to help you get your potion out to those who need it."

"I don't want my potion in your hands forever, without any way to access it."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what you are going to do with it. I don't know if your Board will even accept it!"

He sat back without taking his eyes off her. "Of course they will. I'll help you get it on the market the way you want it to."

She scoffed. "Help me? I don't want your help."

"Just because you don't want it, doesn't mean I won't give it to you."

"And what could you possibly gain from helping me?"

"Maybe I just want to help you. Why is that so hard for you to understand, Hermione, that maybe I just want to do it for you?" She could feel the conversation was starting to drift onto a topic that had nothing to do with Grataro Fungus.

"Because that makes no sense, _Malfoy_. Because there is so much bad history between us that you can't possibly want to help me. And like I said, I don't want your help."

"Just because you don't want it, doesn't mean you don't need it."

"No, I don't _need_ your help either. Not with my potion, not with anything. Has that ever occurred to _you_, Malfoy? Maybe not only do I not need your help, but I don't _want_ you in my life at all?" She was at the edge of her seat.

She could feel the frustration and tension rise in the room as he leaned forward in his seat. "Has it ever occurred to _you,_ Hermione, that I might want you in my life?"

The anger was knocked out of her temporarily. She listened to him say the line again in her mind. She never thought she'd ever hear him say what he just did. Had she even heard him correctly? "What?"

"You heard me," he said, sitting back in his seat.

He wanted her in his life? But that made no sense, not after everything that happened. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about that?"

Yes, why would he lie about that? It made no sense to lie about something like that. Especially in the way he went about doing it. It would seem he would never want her in his life again, the way he just up and left her. And not to mention his engagement – she froze again. "Because you have Asteria."

Their eyes locked onto each other. They were both trying desperately to dissect what the other one was thinking. And for once, they were both lost.

And then finally he spoke. "She doesn't matter."

And with those three words, she snapped. Her stupor was gone, because that was the last straw. She knew what it was like to be the woman that didn't matter. She knew what it was like to be the one that was high-tailed from and left, and she was not going to stand for being on either side of it. "You're marrying her in a month, Draco. It's all over the papers that your wedding is in April." He didn't react, but for the first time he was the one looking away. "You left me for her." She watched as he cringed, but that didn't stop her. "And furthermore, you got engaged to her, in a shorter timespan than we had been dating. Tell me, Draco, how many months were you seeing her behind my back?"

"Stop." It was a whisper, but she had heard it.

But it was too late, because the questions couldn't be held off any longer. He had brought the conversation here and now he had to live with the repercussions. She couldn't even stop herself if she tried as the bottled up questions she had contained within her for a year spilled out. "Two, maybe three? Or perhaps, even better yet, were you with her before you met me in Australia?" He was getting more frazzled, but that's what she wanted, that's what she wanted him to feel - everything she felt. "Does blood matter to you so much, that I wasn't even worth it? Did you even consider me your girlfriend? Or was I just something to pass the time? Just the Mudblood bitch that you thought of me back in school?"

"I didn't have a choice!" he cut in finally.

Hermione leaned back, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Really? What, were you cursed into leaving me?"

He shook his head. Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could speak he said, "My mother is sick. She's dying. I left when I first found out."

* * *

_A/N: See you next time :)_

_Grataro Fungus: Not from canon. I took Grataro from the Latin word "Gratare" meaning to scratch/to itch. And Athlete's foot, the ailment Grataro Fungus is inspired from, is a fungus that grows on your feet. _

_Disclaimer_: _I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	5. Chapter 5

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: Here's chapter five, where things take an unexpected turn.**

**Thank you again Yuli for this one. I know it's a long one.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: **

"_I didn't have a choice!" he cut in finally._

_Hermione leaned back, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "Really? What, were you cursed into leaving me?"_

_He shook his head. Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could speak he said, "My mother is sick. She's dying. I left when I first found out."_

* * *

She felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, freezing her boiling blood. Her mind, on the other hand, was whirling so fast she could hardly process the information. The only comprehensible words to come out of her mouth were, "Sick? Is it curable?"

It was a stupid question; if it was curable, it would have already been over and done with, but she wanted to hear it for herself. He shook his head. "No. The healers don't even know what disease it is."

A piece of her puzzling end with Draco was solved. She could feel her heart drumming in her chest. So that was the answer, that's why he had disappeared. But then that left the question, "Why didn't you come back?"

She looked to him. She felt her anger melting off in pounds at what her eyes were met with. For the first time in a long time, she saw his mask come off as he showed her his real self. Not his pompous, CEO, business, emotionless self, but the one she met in Australia after months of picking at his surface. The one she had fallen in love with. It shocked her, overwhelmed her, and confused her all at once. When he spoke it was quiet. "Mother didn't know about you. The Malfoys and the Greengrasses are old friends, so she asked me to marry Asteria almost as a kind of dying wish. I – I didn't...I don't know how to tell my mother that there was someone else."

When he finished she felt numb. Immediately, all the terrible things she had said just five minutes ago came crashing back. He didn't have a choice; that was the answer. All those times she asked herself why he had left her – he never had a choice. All those times she had thought he had used her, manipulated her to pass the time – he never had a choice. Guilt flooded her. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't know."

He shook his head, looking past her. "There's no way you would have."

Silence overtook them, but what else was there left to say? It was done, wasn't it? The mystery solved, the missing pieces found. And it all made sense. His family wanted the marriage. It hadn't been a plan of his to use her and leave her. He hadn't manipulated her, hadn't abandoned her for the hell of it.

No, the simple truth had been his mother was sick, and Hermione knew she wouldn't have been able to deny her mother what his was asking if she had been in his shoes. "I – um – wish your Mother the best." He nodded without looking at her.

And it was at that moment that Hermione realized the two of them never really were an option. All the time she had spent hoping to bring him back into her life, who was she kidding? "I also wish you the best with your marriage."

She looked to him then, though he still refused to give her eye contact, instead preferring to gaze at the desk between them. All of a sudden, she remembered why she was here in the first place, remembered why her muscles were tense enough to snap. And for some reason, now it didn't matter. "I grant you the rights of the new cure. I'll have the first paperwork in by Friday."

She continued to stare at him. He still wouldn't look at her.

She sat there for a few moments. There was nothing else to really say, was there? She had finally achieved her closure. Everything solved, done, able to be filed away. So why was she still here? Slowly, Hermione stood and walked out of his office, into the lift, and back to her workspace, all the while trying to absorb her newfound revelations and what they meant.

* * *

Draco watched her leave. He wanted to stop her, knew he should stop her. But then again, why? What could he do to make her stay? What could he possibly offer her to get her to stay? He didn't have anything to give her, except maybe apologies.

He was still angry at himself; he shouldn't have told her. He had even told himself a long time ago that he wasn't going to reveal this to her, because there would be no purpose in it, considering she had been the one to move on.

But after that conversation, he didn't know what to think. She was so mad at him, so angry. She even thought he thought of her as "just the mudblood bitch", as if that was all there was between them. He deserved it, he supposed. He deserved to have her hatred after his abandonment of her. Even if he had left a note, even if he had promised to return, even if he still loved her. It wasn't the same without a goodbye, without taking her with him.

Taking in a whiff of air, he could still smell her in the room. That smell of vanilla that lingered wherever she was, on her clothes, in her hair, and even in the air. They said smells brought back memories, and Hermione was proving its truth. With her fragrance, memories crept up on him, and he couldn't handle it. He needed to get out of here, needed to clear his mind of her. He looked at his watch. It was only 3 o'clock, but that didn't matter, not today, and especially not when he was his own boss. He grabbed his wand and coat before leaving his office without a word.

* * *

He floo'd into his second drawing room, as the main drawing room had been torn down some years ago. He was surprised to find his mother sitting in the room, talking to a man that looked like he was trying to do business with his mother; he was not a physician, nor a friend. His mother turned to him and confusion struck Draco. His mother...she looked healthy. Her skin was glowing; her eyes were shining; her posture, clothing, face, and hair were all perfect. "Mother?"

"Oh, Draco dear..." she began. "My, aren't you home early from work?" Her eyes flickered to the man at the table, before flicking to Draco and then back at the man. "It seems, Mr. Wells, that I am going to need to reschedule our appointment." Draco was too in shock to find his manners enough to bid the man good day as he stared at his mother.

"Draco, come have a seat."

His legs refused to move.

* * *

**February 2003**

It was like he disappeared off the face of the planet. She couldn't find him anywhere. No matter how hard she looked or how hard she tried, it was as if he had vanished. She tried all communication methods: owl, floo, letters that appeared before the person, face-to-face contact. This was her last hope.

It was a futile attempt, something that Hermione didn't think would result in anything beneficial, but she was desperate now. What if something had happened to him? That was a possibility, and it always would be. He was a former Death Eater, someone who was hated by many people who blamed him for things he didn't even do, just because he was born onto the wrong side.

She planned to meet up with an old classmate today. She had heard he was a private investigator, and that was what she needed; someone to snoop, go around everywhere, and figure out where the hell he was and if he was okay.

Dennis Creevey came into the restaurant right on time, leaving Hermione in surprise at his promptness. She waved him over, and once he was within earshot he greeted her, "Hermione." He moved in for a hug that she returned.

"Dennis, it feels like forever since I last saw you," she said. Meeting up with old friends was always a stress reliever.

They took a seat. "How've you been?" she asked.

They spent a couple minutes catching up, talking about life and how things were going. He was apparently dating a girl that was a couple years younger than Hermione; he was doing well and was successful, but still dealing with his brother's death. She briefly told him about Draco and how they were dating, but nothing about his recent disappearance. It wasn't until the dinner entrée arrived that he asked, "So, why did you call me out here?"

Hermione looked around before leaning in closer to him; the last thing she wanted was for Draco's name to be plastered on tomorrow's newspaper. "I need you to help me find someone."

"Who?" he asked.

"Draco."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione leaned in closer. "He's missing."

"Missing?" he asked.

Hermione pulled away. "I can't get into contact with him. I've tried everything, but it isn't working, and everyone that I know that's close to him won't give me a straight answer. I need someone to help me find information on him."

He nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Hermione sighed. "Thanks," she said, looking out the window of the restaurant. "I'm so worried about him."

Dennis placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him, Hermione."

She nodded, smiling, before something caught her eye. She looked up again to see a streak of blond. Was she hallucinating, or was this real? She excused herself hastily from the table before running toward the front door of the restaurant; she could have sworn she saw him on the other side of the window to the restaurant. She ran outside and looked around. "Draco?" she called out.

There was no response. In fact, there was no one around.

Hermione took a ragged breath. What was she doing here? She was already going absolutely bonkers looking for him, and now she was seeing things that weren't there?

"Hermione!" a voice called out. She turned to see Dennis running up to her. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I thought I just saw – never mind."

Hermione walked back with Dennis into the restaurant, her desperation to find Draco mounting.

* * *

**Hermione's Flat  
****March 23rd, 2004  
****2:00 AM**

She couldn't stop thinking about him. Ever since she had left his office, he was surrounding her thoughts. Her entire night consisted of thinking about what happened with Draco. His mother was sick and dying, and her last wish was to see him marry Asteria.

That, for one, hurt. It hurt that his mother wanted him to marry someone that wasn't her. But then again, when had they ever told his parents about their relationship? They hadn't told anyone; no one knew about it. She hadn't even told her own parents yet and never planned to.

It changed things though, like how she thought of him. It was hard for her to walk out of that room and still think of him as the pompous arse that had left her for another woman. She couldn't do that anymore, couldn't hide her heartbreak behind that mask anymore. And slowly throughout the night, the type of memories she forced herself to bury a year ago were starting to come back out, the happy memories.

She never thought of the good times with Draco; in fact, for so long now she had refused to do it. She refused to think about how the two of them had worked well together, refused to think about their dates and the times they'd had, everything between them. She refused. But now that she knew the truth as to why he had left, it was hard.

How was he feeling right now? How was he dealing with it all? Replaying their conversation in her mind, Hermione knew he hadn't meant to tell her, that it was a rash decision on his part that he most likely regretted, which told her that he hadn't told anyone yet. He'd been keeping this burden of his mother's illness for so long now.

Draco loved his parents, adored them. Despite the war, despite what they put him through, he loved them and respected them. He never explicitly told her so, but he had talked about them enough that she had the idea. And having to deal with his mother's premature sickness – she knew it would kill her to be in his place.

It hurt that she understood why he did everything. It hurt to understand why he left her. In a way, it was simpler when she could just hate him, when she could just call him a lying, manipulating, cheating bastard and be done with it. But now, knowing the truth, she knew she couldn't do that.

Guilt, remorse, and sympathy all ate at her and had been for the duration of the night. She couldn't escape him, couldn't escape their conversation. And she knew the only promise of hope of putting him aside for the night was sleep. Slipping on her nightgown, Hermione wandered over to her bed. She was tired, it was late, and she still had work tomorrow.

As she was about to turn off the lights, a letter popped in front of her. She nearly fell off her bed in surprise. When she had regained herself enough to look at the letter, she realized it wasn't from a friend. Then again, letters that popped in front of you instead of being delivered by owl rarely were from friends; usually business letters appeared that way, but only ones of the utmost urgency.

Judging from the font of the writing and texture of the parchment, this was no ordinary business. She opened it and began to read:

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_We at the Abraxan apologize for disturbing you at the late hour. However, one of our customers, Mr. Draco Malfoy, has refused to leave our restaurant and we have no other way of removing him. If you could please come and escort him, we would be most grateful._

_Thank you,_

_Albert Varney  
Abraxan Manager_

Hermione knew what the Abraxan was; it was a restaurant known for catering to the high and mighty, people like him. She debated for a few seconds if she should go. She didn't want to. She knew that it would violate the boss-worker relationship she now needed to desperately maintain. Plus, it didn't make sense for them to contact her about it anyway, he had closer "acquaintances". Hermione was about to turn off the light when she glanced at the letter again. She sighed. Selfishness on her part wasn't fair in this situation. Obviously he wasn't leaving the restaurant, and the restaurant needed to close; she couldn't let those people suffer because of him. She sighed and got out of bed, all the while cursing his darling fiancée for not dealing with him.

* * *

Hermione arrived at the Abraxan a little before 2:30, and the doors opened to her presence before she could even touch the knob. She didn't know what to expect or do, but she hesitantly took a few steps forward. She was soon greeted by a man wearing a suit. "Miss Hermione Granger, it is nice to meet you. My name is Albert and I'm the manager of the Abraxan." He shook her hand. "We are so pleased you could make it. Please follow me."

She did and he continued, "Mr. Malfoy is one of our most frequent and respected customers and we wouldn't want to just throw him out on the street. We had no idea who to contact at this time of night, so we decided to turn to his wand contact list. Luckily he listed you…"

Hermione stopped listening as she absorbed this new information. She was under Draco's wand contact list? The list was mostly used to return wands to owners, though some drunks and people with memory problems and things of that sort used it like a contact list; if someone ever found the person out of sorts, they'd know who to contact. But Hermione didn't know that he had respected her enough to put her on his list, or that he hadn't removed her after what happened, especially since he had a girlfriend, or rather, a fiancée. Hermione's thoughts halted as she saw a very drunk Draco sprawled across a table with a half empty bottle of scotch in front of him, his head on the table. He had obviously fallen asleep.

"Do you need help moving him? You can't Apparate him in here."

Hermione walked around the table to look at him. His face almost looked peaceful, though a hint of agitation was in the lines of his face despite his unconscious state. Hermione shook him. "Malfoy, Malfoy get up." She looked to see Albert was still standing nearby, though out of close hearing distance. "Draco, please get up."

His name seemed to call him up slightly from his slumber as his eyes opened groggily, "Hermione?" he asked as he reached out to her. "I'm sorry," he said then, reaching over to touch her face.

Hermione froze. He was touching her, his eyes completely open, his mask gone. And he was apologizing? Now out of all times? She had waited a year to hear it, but from a drunken, barely conscious Draco, she didn't know what to think.

"Draco." She slowly moved his hand. "We have to go."

He shook his head at her. "No, not going back," he slurred.

Hermione looked to his drunken form. Back? "Where...?" she began to ask, but by the time she finished, he had passed out again. Hermione groaned internally. There was no way he was walking out of here. And what the hell was he on about? She continued to stare at him when the sound of a cough drew her attention. She remembered she needed to get him out of here. She would have to take him home.

Home? Whose home did she mean exactly? She wasn't taking him to her flat. That was out of the question, considering it would be completely unacceptable. She couldn't take him to his house either, his parents and fiancée would murder her. She thought it'd be best to keep them out of it.

So there was only one option: somewhere that was neutral ground. She turned to Albert, who was standing a ways behind them. "Is there a hotel nearby?" Hermione asked. He nodded, and Hermione asked for his assistance to get Malfoy there.

* * *

Twenty minutes and a lot of suspicious glances later, Hermione found herself in a hotel suite with Malfoy. The room had two beds, which was the only reason there was a slight delay, as she'd had it adjusted for them. She didn't know why she had asked for two, if not to prove to Albert and the clerk that she wasn't going to throw herself on Malfoy and take advantage of his disoriented state.

Honestly, sometimes people presumed too much. Hermione looked down at his sleeping form. Yes, he drank; she had drunk a number of times with him, but never had he ever drunk this much where he couldn't even walk himself out the door. Malfoys had pride, and a little too much of it. Hermione sighed and began to remove his boots, magicking his outer robes off him when she couldn't get them off.

Afterward, she tucked him in and sat on the opposite bed to just stare at him. She didn't know what to do now. She initially was going to leave him here after she got him comfortable, but now she wasn't sure. When he awoke, what if he didn't remember? What if he assumed things, or something bad happened, or the press found him? On that note, Hermione stood and began to ward off the place.

Whilst she was working, her mind was still focused on what she was going to do. She'd already paid for the room - more like penthouse - and it was a high price, but she wasn't going to take Malfoy to some dodgy hotel.

Finishing the wards, Hermione returned to the room. She stood over him, and although he was sleeping, he still looked rather distressed. Hermione sighed and took out her wand and cast a spell to keep him from having dreams..

Biting her lip, Hermione decided it would probably be best to just stay. She purposely ignored the part of her that wanted to stay, telling herself it was just so she could explain to him what had happened and why he was there.

She sighed and Transfigured her clothes to feel less uncomfortable for sleep. And then, as an afterthought, she did the same to his. She then turned off the light and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

**7:43 AM**

Hermione awoke through habit; it was Wednesday, after all. She had only lain there for a few moments before realizing something didn't feel right to her. The room was too cold, the sheets were too thin, the pillows were too fluffed. She sat up with a start. The other bed was empty. Where did he go?

Her eyes traveled to the window, where a chair was positioned to look out over the city and Hermione could see his silhouette. The curtains were drawn back and he was overlooking the city. Hermione slowly got out of bed, hoping to alert him to her consciousness, but he didn't react. She decided on a less subtle route. "Malfoy?"

Silence. Hermione wasn't even sure he had heard her, and she was about to try again when, "We're back to Malfoy?"

Hermione felt a faint blush creep over her. He remembered? "Last night…do you remember anything?"

He let out a sigh, still refusing to look at her. "Unfortunately, my memory is as spotless as ever."

She nodded, more to herself than to him. He remembered everything, proving to the side of her that said she should have left last night that there really was no reason for her to have stayed. He didn't need her to explain anything, didn't need her help remembering. She should have gone home.

She forced a smile. "I'll…get going then."

She turned for the door. "Don't leave," he said suddenly, desperately. His voice was suddenly louder, and she figured he was probably looking at her now. No, she knew he was looking at her; she could feel his gaze on the back of her head. She struggled to decide what to do. His tone was so familiar, so...worried. It was a tone one used when one talked to a girlfriend or a fiancée; a tone that was used for people who meant something.

But despite that, she didn't turn; she didn't want to look at him. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I can't. People are probably already talking after seeing me take your drunken form to a hotel room. It doesn't look good, and besides, I have work."

"Fuck work, I'm your boss."

That did it. She turned then to yell at him, to patronize him for treating her like this, for being so rude, for treating her like his personal slave, for ruining the life she had been painting and creating around herself for the past year. But she stopped dead in her tracks.

He was in pain, there was no doubt about it. She could feel it, see it in every line of his face. The way he looked at her, it was like he was letting her read him. Her lip trembled and she didn't know why, but she figured it was due to her frustration.

How was she supposed to yell at him when he looked like that? When he looked as if he had seen the devil himself? She knew this was a bad idea, but she gave in and sat down on the edge of the bed.

* * *

**8:22 AM**

After their little spat when Hermione first awoke, he hadn't said anything. She had taken to simply staring at him while he looked out the window. She couldn't read his face from the angle, but took no moves to try. She wanted to know what was going on. Part of her had begun to assume the worst – his mother had passed. But she hoped, prayed that wasn't the case for the single fact that she didn't want to wish that on him, even if he made her life a living hell.

And then her mind circled back to what he had said yesterday, how he wasn't going back. What had he meant by that? Going back in the past? Going back to work? Going back home?

The silence was broken with a tap on the window, and she looked to see an owl hovering outside. He drew his wand and tapped the glass, and the owl flew through it as if it wasn't there. It dropped the letter in his lap before flying away. He tapped the glass again before turning to open the letter.

Hermione didn't say a word, just continued her silent staring. She could already guess who it was from. His fiancée was probably worried, probably desperate by now. She knew if she were in the girl's shoes, she would be. She wanted to leave as she watched him read the letter, because even if she knew the truth now, it didn't mean it didn't hurt. It made her feel unwanted, unneeded; it hurt to know that in a few weeks he was marrying her.

He read the letter twice, she could tell. And then he did something she didn't expect: he wadded up the parchment and threw it into the awaiting fireplace. Hermione watched it burn before turning back to Draco.

He had taken out a ring and was looking at it - a wedding band. She couldn't stand it; she couldn't stand watching as he thought about his fiancée. It didn't matter if he said she didn't matter, it didn't matter if it was all just part of a dying wish, because despite it all, in name, he had someone else.

She wanted to leave, she had to. She couldn't just sit here like his good little mistress and watch. "I need to go," she said. "I can't – I can't." It was all she could get out.

"I need you here," he said, lowering the ring to look at her in a way that made her knees weak, so she diverted her gaze.

"I can't, not after everything. I have to go."

She fled the room like a dementor was within it and didn't stop until she was on Apparating grounds.

* * *

**March 2003**

The search for Draco continued on. She had tried everything. And yet, it felt as if as the days went by, more and more traces of him disappeared. When she had gone to his office, she was told he was on a business trip. When she had returned the day they told her he'd be back, they said he hadn't returned yet. When she went over to his flat, the place was boarded up and for sale, all his items gone. She couldn't find him and it was slowly driving her insane.

She began to look through newspapers; he was a big enough "celebrity" that he sometimes made the daily news. He wasn't in the Australian paper at all, or in the Hong Kong paper where she was told his business meeting was. When she finally got hold of the _Daily Prophet_, she had pretty much given up hope, but slowly flipped through the pages anyway.

She made it through the business section and all that was left was the Skeeter section. She looked at the pictures and articles, scanning, not caring for the faces of the people she knew and hadn't kept in touch with. They didn't matter. Not right now.

And then, on the last page, on the last article, there was a picture. A picture of a couple, and above it the word: ENGAGED!

Hermione stared at the photo, looking for proof it was fake, looking for some evidence that this photograph wasn't real, because one of the two figures in it was Draco. And alongside him, with a ring on her finger, was someone that the paper declared to be his fiancée. She didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it, and her eyes ran over the picture again and again.

It was him, there was no doubt about it. He was engaged to someone else.

Sadness overwhelmed her at first. He wasn't coming back; he had left her. She sat in her depressed state for what felt like hours.

The realization of the greater picture, however, dawned on her many hours later. The realization of what his leaving her really meant. He hadn't just left her; he had abandoned her. He left her for another woman and announced his engagement to her within a matter of weeks of his disappearance.

Which could only mean he had never loved her. He had played her, and he had won. She was just a game, a pastime - disposable. Because there was no way he could have fallen in love with and gotten engaged to that woman within weeks. So the only option Hermione could find was that he had been with that woman before or during his time with Hermione, courting that woman for marriage the while she was just...used.

It made her furious. Everything she did to find him, everything she tried to do to get back to him was pointless. He never cared for her, and she had fallen for his stupid act.

* * *

Hermione sat in the international transportation station of Sydney. It had been two weeks since she'd seen the news of Draco's engagement in the _Prophet_. She was leaving Australia; she couldn't stay there any longer, couldn't bear being in all these places where the two of them had been. It angered her and made her want to break down at the same time. Everywhere they had gone together, everywhere she looked - he was there, he had used her there, had made her think he loved her there. She couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't take it, so she was leaving.

A nice company, Griffith & Sons, had offered her a position in London. She initially hesitated to search for jobs in London, considering he was there, considering that she would see him again, and she didn't want that. But on the other hand, she knew that she had to look out for herself, and if it was the best offer she received outside of Malfoy Industries, she wasn't going to pass it up. She refused to work for Malfoy ever again, to be used by him, played by him.

She left Australia with a promise: she'd never let anyone use her like he did again.

* * *

**Malfoy Industries, London Branch**

**11:00 AM**

Hermione sat at her workspace, adding in some ingredients to her potion. Now that she had a cure, she had to create larger quantities to show to the board of Malfoy Industries so they could decide if they wanted to put it on the market or test it further. And of course, making more potions meant repeating the entire week-long process again.

Hermione stirred the potion twice before sitting back to wait the three minutes before she needed to put the next ingredient in. She looked to her desk and found that a note had managed to find its way onto it. Opening it to reveal its contents, she was very surprised at the handwriting.

_Meet me at Diagon Park._

_I'll be waiting._

_Draco_

Reading it again, she was almost in shock. What did he want to meet her at the park for? It wasn't like he'd had much to say that morning. She folded the note and pulled out her wand to Vanish it, but then hesitated. "I'll be waiting", it had said. Surely he wouldn't stay past an hour. No, he wouldn't wait for her, he was just saying that to try and get her to come. But it wasn't going to happen, because she was working, and he should just contact his fiancée.

* * *

**2:30 PM**

Hermione looked at her potion; she still had three hours before she needed to add in another ingredient and could go home for the night. Her thoughts drifted to Malfoy. She thought of what had happened yesterday, of the revelation and the closure she had wanted for so long, and then of course what had happened earlier. She didn't know where or how to fit that into her file of all things Malfoy. And ever since the note Malfoy had left, she couldn't get him out of her mind, which frustrated her to no end, because before then she had done a perfectly good job of keeping him out of her mind. It was almost as if every time she had succeeded in removing him from her mind, he always managed to come back into it.

Of course, the letter added to all the uncertainty. Their last conversation was still playing in her mind over and over again. What had happened that allowed him to remove his mask and show her everything? It didn't make sense.

She was positive that it was not his mother's passing, because it wasn't listed in any papers, and if something like that happened, she knew it would make the news.

Hermione sighed. She couldn't focus her thoughts, so she decided she needed to distract herself for a bit. She grabbed her wand and cloak before heading out to Florean Fortescue's.

* * *

The parlor was busy; there was nowhere to sit down or eat comfortably. There was a celebration going on in Florean Fortescue's; apparently it was their anniversary. So Hermione took her ice cream and debated where it was quiet enough for one to think. Her first thought was Diagon Park, but then her mind wandered to Malfoy. Surely it wasn't possible that he was still there. Her watch told her four hours had passed; that was a reasonable amount of time for him to have left.

So she carried her ice cream there.

* * *

Hermione wandered through the park, trying to find an open bench. She glanced around and one bench in particular caught her eye.

A bench on which sat a man with white blond hair. There weren't that many people with that particular hair color walking around. She knew who he was immediately, even if she couldn't see his face.

He was still waiting.

A part of her wanted to hightail it and run out of there so as to not endure the embarrassment of coming so late. But she knew she couldn't. Something was bothering him, that much was obvious. He had never acted like he had that morning before, ever. He had never been so distraught. And now she could see that the distress hadn't changed, hadn't improved.

And knowing that fact alone, she knew she couldn't just leave.

Gathering up her courage, she began to slowly make the walk over to the bench. Each step brought her closer, and with each step she could feel more and more of his desolation, until finally she was standing in front of him.

He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, except now they lacked their crisp ironed out feel, which only meant he hadn't returned home yet.

She stood in front of him for many seconds, waiting for a remark or for him to say something along the lines of "you're late", but his silence only irked her more. He refused to acknowledge her. He was sitting with his legs out in front of him, his arms folded, and his head down.

When he didn't say anything for what she deemed a comfortable amount of time to greet someone, she sat down on the bench beside him. She waited for him to start a conversation, but the silence lingered on. When she finally had enough of it, she put down her forgotten ice cream on the bench and turned to him, deciding she needed answers. "What's going on, Draco? Why'd you call me out here?"

For the first time since she'd spotted him on the bench, he moved. Unfolding his arms and turning to look at her, his gaze overwhelmed her. "I don't know how to tell you." She nodded, and turned away from him. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to." Hermione turned back to him, expectantly.

He handed her a corked vial. Hermione held it up; it contained a white opaque substance. She turned to him. "Memories?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's the best way I can think of to tell you."

Hermione only nodded. Her mind whirled to try and piece together what this could contain that was too difficult for him to say to her. "Before you see them, Hermione," he began, interrupting her thoughts, "I want you to know I'm sorry for everything. For putting you through what I did. I'm sorry for dragging you into my pathetic excuse of a life. And I hope that someday, maybe you can forgive me for everything I've put you through."

He stood then and began to walk away, but Hermione was still staring at him. What did he mean? She looked at the vial with the memories swirling within.

* * *

She didn't know where the time had gone. She had spent time in the park, eating the ice cream, before turning her attention to the vial once again. She wouldn't be able to watch it until she got home, but a part of her was scared to because she didn't know what she would find.

When her business in the park was done, Hermione slipped the vial into her pocket before returning to Malfoy Industries to finish up her potion for the night, and all too soon she was returning home for the evening.

The vial was a weight at her side as she walked into the floo room of Malfoy Industries. She knew she was putting off watching whatever it was that Malfoy wanted her to see. But as she dropped the floo powder into the fireplace, she knew that the time had come to watch it.

Stepping into her sitting room, Hermione dropped her purse and took out the vial. She sighed. Perhaps she shouldn't; perhaps she should just leave them, or give them back to him.

But would that be fair to him? He had looked absolutely demolished, like someone had effectively destroyed any semblance of his being. Could she ignore that?

Before she knew it, Hermione found herself wandering into her bedroom, where her Pensieve was hidden in her closet. She drew it out.

She felt her hands shake as she raised the vial, uncorked it, and poured the memories in.

Her heart was pounding for a reason she couldn't explain. She just knew that whatever she was about to see was important.

She gripped the sides of the Pensieve before placing her head in the liquid.

* * *

She found herself standing behind Draco in his manor. She would have recognized it anywhere.

"Mother?" he asked.

"Oh, Draco dear..." his mother began. "My, aren't you home early from work?" Her eyes flickered to the man at the table, before flicking to Draco and then back at the man. "It seems, Mr. Wells, that I am going to need to reschedule our appointment." Hermione stepped in front of Draco to see he was in shock.

"Draco, come have a seat."

He didn't move. What was going on? "Who was that?" he asked.

"That was James Wells; he's catering your wedding." Despite herself, Hermione couldn't help the feeling of irritation that washed over her.

Draco stood there like he had been hit with the Body-Bind Curse. Hermione looked to his mother. She looked fine, so why did he look completely petrified?

And then it hit Hermione as well. That was it, wasn't it? "You look _healthy_," Draco said.

"You're home early from work, dear. Had I been expecting you, I wouldn't look this healthy."

Her mind reeled. So the sickness was...fake? "It was all a lie?"

His mother nodded. "Have a seat, Draco. You look a little pale."

What in Merlin's name was going on here? "So you are healthy?" he asked.

She smiled. "I'm fine, Draco."

"Why?" he asked.

His mother raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows before taking Draco's hand in hers. "One year ago when you were in Australia, we heard some news, something we didn't quite expect." Draco sat there, clearly not comprehending. "We heard you were dating Hermione Granger." Hermione could feel her heart pound in her chest; part of her didn't want to hear any of this. His mother continued, "And we couldn't allow that. We could not just sit back and watch our only child go off and possibly soil the family lines with a Mudblood."

Hermione felt as if someone had taken a knife and stabbed her in the gut. Hermione collapsed on a chair beside him, unable to stand. "Is blood truly that important?"

"My family line is dead, Draco. It died with Sirius Black. Do you honestly think I'm going to sit by and watch as the Malfoy family suffers the same fate?"

The sickness had been a lie. It was all fake.

"What does this have to do with you pretending to be sick?"

"Oh," she said lightly, as if it was just a simple mishap. "We needed to get you to come back home somehow."

His parents had used him.

"You pretended all this time to make me come back, to make me marry another woman? All this was to just get what you wanted?"

His parents stole him from her.

"Honestly, Draco, it wouldn't have been of issue if you dated properly. Then we wouldn't have had to step in."

"I thought you were dying!" his voice boomed. Hermione jumped at his tone. "Dying! I thought you were going to disappear from my life; that you'd someday collapse and not get up. And all this time, it was just some _game_ to you?!"

"It wasn't a game, Draco," she said without raising her voice in the least. "We did what we had to do to keep the blood lines pure."

"How can you think blood is important when two half-bloods changed the course of history? How can you possibly still believe blood equals superiority?"

"Blood status has always been of the utmost importance, Draco." Her tone turned stern. "It has been and always will be. The half-bloods, Draco, are merely tools to our ends. Do you honestly think your father would have joined ranks with that half-blood had he not been promised a pure world? He was a tool that simply became uncontrollable, so we used another half-blood to dispose of him."

"You're wrong, Mother; blood never mattered." She looked appalled at his statement. She watched as he stood. "You can't control me anymore."

* * *

_A/N: So, who saw that coming? Because if you did, I would like to give you some major props, because I tried my best to make it something no one would see coming. _

_Disclaimer_: _I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	6. Chapter 6

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: Thanks for the feedback everyone :) All I got to say is that in this chapter, things get a little crazy... **

**Thanks for all the help Yuli :)**

* * *

**Chapter Six: **

The memory ended.

Hermione fell out of the Pensieve and had no will to get back up. So that was it; it had all been a plan, one in which he'd had no say in whatsoever. It was because her blood status wasn't good enough. She wasn't good enough.

She could feel the lump in her throat grow uncontainable as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. He hadn't left her because of his Mother; it wasn't some dying wish. No, his parents had intervened because she wasn't worthy enough to be his girlfriend. His parents had ruined anything and everything that Hermione could have had with him because she wasn't good enough.

And then she heard it. "Hermione?"

She then remembered it was Wednesday, which meant dinner at the Burrow. She looked up to see Ron standing over her. "Hermione, what happened?" he asked slowly, lowering himself to her level.

It was too late to hide it all away: the tears streaming, the vial empty beside her, the Pensieve floating above her. There was no hiding anymore; she had to tell Ron everything. It wasn't fair that she was hiding everything from him, it wasn't right for her to do this to him any longer. "I need to tell you something, Ron."

He sat himself down next to her and she began. She told him everything that she had kept from him for so long now. She told Ron about Draco, how she had loved him, how they had dated for a year. She told him how Draco had left her, how she had come back to London because of it. She talked about how she hated him with all her gut and about the new revelations from the memories in the Pensieve, and what it meant about everything. "…I blamed him, Ron. I yelled at him, hated him, and thought of him as the lowest of the low. But he's also a victim in all this. I don't know what to do, Ron. I don't know."

She curled into a ball and cried, not knowing if she had the right to cling onto Ron now that he knew she was such a terrible girlfriend, having lied to him all this time. She felt strong arms wrap around her then, but she didn't dare look up to his face. She couldn't.

He didn't say anything the entire time, didn't reprimand or patronize her. He didn't mention that the others were waiting for them, or how she should have told him before. He just held her, which was exactly what she needed.

* * *

Draco braced himself as he looked into his mirror and saw his pathetic reflection. His mind wandered back to seeing Hermione earlier in the park. He had just left her there - alone. He shouldn't have. He should have begged for her forgiveness right there, but he hadn't. He had walked away. He didn't know what she would think about any of it.

A part of him wanted to end what he had with her. There was too much history between them, so much so that it couldn't be erased, forgotten, or forgiven. Even though it hadn't been the two of them that had created the issues, they couldn't be changed now. If only it hadn't taken him so long to figure everything out; if only he hadn't waited until his "wedding" was a month away, things would be so different.

He vaguely wondered what she was doing right then, if she was crying. He doubted it. When he truly, realistically thought about it, he knew that she probably hadn't even watched the memories. She probably had already moved on. It would make sense if she had; he would have in the same situation.

It still boggled him that his parents had the audacity to do what they had done just to keep the lines pure. Yes, blood was important to them and he knew it, but he hadn't known it was to the extent of faking an illness.

He felt so entirely frustrated with everything, with his family, his love, his life.

He hated his life.

He looked into his reflection again. What he saw wasn't what he wanted to see. He saw a man that was tired, confused, and lost. That was not who he wanted to be.

His entire life, he had always been pushed down, told what to do, told how he needed to dress and act. In fact, there was only one time he could remember where he wasn't being controlled. A certain someone had given him a year of bliss, a year of being himself.

And now everyone was trying to destroy the one person that had given it to him. He couldn't allow it to happen. He couldn't let someone else control him any longer.

* * *

**March 24th, 2004  
****7:00 AM**

Hermione awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window. She was confused. Why was she still wearing her work clothes? Why were the draperies not covering the window? Her eyes felt extremely dry and sore, and her head hurt. She shifted, eliciting an "ow" from someone underneath her. She looked to see Ron.

The previous night flooded back to her: how she had completely told Ron everything, how she had finally been open, and most of all, how she had cried over another man in his arms. She sat up. "Sorry, are you okay?"

He nodded, before reaching up and messing with his hair. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

She took in a breath, assessing the damage. "Like hell."

He chuckled, which left a smile on Hermione's face. Then it was quiet. Thoughts from the last night, of telling Ron everything, flooded her. As she chanced a glance at him through her lashes, she could tell he was trying to start a conversation without offending her or making her emotional again.

She was about to save him when he blurted out, "I'm starving."

Hermione grinned at the floorboards, silently agreeing she wasn't quite ready to discuss the previous night yet either.

It was only while Hermione was cleaning up their breakfast that they were able to awkwardly make plans to talk about things at dinner that night, leaving Hermione in confusion over whether to be relieved or anxious about the arrangement. But at least now she knew how much time she had to contemplate where the two of them stood.

Ron left for work soon after. Hermione saw him off with a quick kiss to the cheek, before getting ready herself.

* * *

She was surprised to find she was early for work that day. She hadn't really bothered looking at the time, but she figured she was late. But she supposed crying herself to sleep on her boyfriend had served as a good alarm clock. Hermione was the first one on the floor, which was odd to say the least.

"Are you going to go in or just keep standing there?" Hermione jumped at the sound of the voice, turning to see it was only one of her colleagues, Todd Smith.

"Todd, you're early," she said. Todd was one of the younger workers on the floor, perhaps a year or two within her age, but as he was homeschooled, she had never seen him at Hogwarts. He was productive and very OCD about his work.

"I'm actually here at the usual time. You are the one that is, in fact, 'early.'"

Hermione nodded and walked through the door, letting him in as well. Todd's lab station was a few down from Hermione's, which was toward the middle of the room, so they walked together.

It was only when she got a little closer that she noticed her lab station wasn't as she had left it. It was surrounded by caution tape and warnings. "What happened?" Hermione asked, stepping closer. "Have you seen this happen before, Todd?" she asked.

She turned around to face him. He shook his head. "No." Hermione took a step closer.

"There has to be some explanation," she said, pulling out her wand.

She cast an identification charm to see what kind of magic her space was contaminated with, but the spell backfired. She was blown backward and her back hit something which made her call out in pain, and then time stopped.

* * *

It felt like her ears were filled with cotton, or like she was listening to a television with the volume turned down low. She could hear voices vaguely; they sounded worried, frantic even, but they weren't up close. The voices were distant, blocked out.

She could hear the sound of someone calling her, a voice that at one point in her life had made her smile and laugh, a voice she'd recognize anywhere. "Hermione," the voice thudded against the cotton in her ears, not quite making it through the barrier. "Hermione!" it repeated with more worry, but the same volume, in her judgment.

A reply was necessary; she could feel the desperate tone in his voice. Her eyelids peeled open slowly, feeling like the weight of solid gold. The world she was exposed to wasn't what she expected. Everything was spinning.

"Hermione," the voice thudded again.

He was spinning as well. Her eyelids were harder and harder to keep open, until they came down in a blink, and it was too much to open them again. "Where are the damn Healers?" his voice said, the volume now lowering further. It was barely louder than a whisper in her mind. "Hermione, stay with me…" the voice faded until she could hear no sounds at all.

* * *

**St. Mungo's Hospital**

She woke again to white; white walls, white sheets, white ceiling. She tried to sit up, but was met with an opposing force pushing her back down. "Just stay down, Hermione. Don't try to move." The voice was different. She vaguely remembered another voice, but now she wasn't sure if that was real or in her mind.

Shifting her gaze, she laid eyes on Ron. He was looking down at her, his eyes worried. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Hermione let her sensations overwhelm her. She said the first word that popped into her mind. "Beaten."

His brows crinkled in that way that let her know he was worried about her. She felt a warmth encase her hand. "What do you remember?" he asked.

Hermione began to recount what she remembered, though it wasn't all that much besides coming to work early and seeing the caution tapes around her desk. "…I cast a spell to see what was going on…" But suddenly her memory went blank, like it was cut off and severed at that point in time. "...and that's all I remember."

Ron's hand ran down her cheek. "I'm sorry," he said.

Hermione looked up at him, not understanding. "Why?" she asked.

"I didn't protect you. I didn't stop them. We can't even find a trace of who did it."

"It isn't your fault." He didn't respond, just held her hand. And it was quiet for a few seconds, before Hermione realized her puzzle wasn't completely put together. "How did I get here?" she asked.

Ron looked at her. "Malfoy called the Healers in. Smith was there, and so was Malfoy by the time we got to the crime scene. I didn't have time to figure out what was happening, just that you had fainted. So I followed the Healers back here to make sure you were all right."

Hermione took in this information, remembering vaguely the sound of Draco's voice in what had felt like a dream. She stored that bit of information for further pondering. "What am I diagnosed with?" she asked.

"Some kind of magical virus was spreading through your body. They don't know where it came from exactly, just that it hadn't harmed you enough yet by the time they reached you. They were able to pull it out of you."

"Side effects?" she asked.

"You'll be a little weak for a few days."

Hermione sighed at this new information. It was at that point that an owl began to tap at the window. Hermione looked over, but Ron was already at the window taking the letter off its leg. She recognized the letter to be from the Ministry from the paper used, though she couldn't read it from her angle, so she was forced to wait for Ron to finish reading. Fortunately for Hermione, it only took a few seconds before Ron threw the letter in the trash bin and returned to her side. "Who was that?"

"A reminder from the Ministry that I have an international Portkey set up at four."

"Portkey?" Hermione searched her mind for a link to what that meant, but she couldn't exactly remember.

"Yes, remember the rumors about the Death Eaters hiding out in Canada?"

She had to think about it, but vaguely she did remember. "Yes," she said, adding a tone of confusion to probe for further details.

"We have stronger evidence that they are there. The Minister has put together an emergency mission to infiltrate where their hideout is rumored to be. I was chosen to go."

This was an excellent thing, something that Ron and Harry had been waiting for, a lead. And it seemed he was pushing it away now. "Then you have to go," she said.

He shook his head. "Go? I'm not going. I can't leave you here now when someone's definitely trying to hurt you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. That was just some crazy accident."

"How do I even know that you are fine?" he asked. "What if your symptoms flare up? Who's going to take care of you?" His facial expression turned firm; he was set on not going. But he had to go, firstly to protect Harry, and secondly for himself. This was what he had been dreaming about. This was a great honor for him, and she knew it. She couldn't let him throw away the opportunity because she had some freak accident.

"You know perfectly well, Ronald, that I can take care of myself. And it's only going to be for a few weeks anyway," she said dismissively.

Ron tilted his head. "Well…" Hermione looked at him pointedly. He sighed. "The thing is, we actually don't know how long we're going, only that it's until the mission is complete. And that's why I'm uncomfortable leaving you here. If it was a few weeks I'd understand, but I don't know how long I'd be gone."

Hermione could tell he was in a bind. He didn't know what to do. She could tell he really was worried about her and that he didn't want to abandon her, but at the same time she knew that this mission was something he'd been working toward for years. And she realized she wasn't going to hold him back. "You have to go, Ron. Even if it is months, you'll regret it if you don't -"

"I won't if something happens to you," he interjected.

"But nothing is going to happen."

It took a lot more talking, persuading, and downright bickering for Hermione to convince him to go. Though in the end, she convinced him under a few conditions: she was to stay away from all signs warning her of dangerous areas, she was to floo home straight from Malfoy Industries, she was not supposed to go anywhere outside without Katie or someone else with her, and most of all, she was not to end up in the hospital again. Hermione agreed to all such warnings, because honestly, the headache the medication gave her was killing her by the second hour of their bickering.

It was only when there was less than an hour left until his departure that Hermione realized what was about to happen. And it seemed Ron had figured it out first, because he was the one to mention it. "About the dinner that was supposed to be tonight."

Hermione smiled. "You've taken me to plenty of dinners."

Ron took her hand then, ignoring her attempt at changing topics. "Where do your feelings lie when it comes to him…now that you know everything?"

Hermione couldn't look him in the eye, not then, especially when the honest truth was, "I don't know."

From the corner of her eye, she could see him nod solemnly. "I thought you might say that." Hermione looked at him. After a pause, Ron let out an elongated sigh. "I think we should take a break."

Confusion washed over her face. "What?"

"I think it'd be better if you figure out how you feel during this break." Hermione tried to interrupt him, but he continued over her, "And when I get back, whenever that is, if you don't want to continue with me, I'll be okay with that."

"Ron…" Hermione began.

"We said it wasn't anything official when we first started this again, right?"

Hermione didn't know what she could possibly say to all this, so instead she chose to bring him in for a hug. "I'm going to miss you."

It wasn't long after that Ron had to leave for his Portkey, promising to return as soon as possible and in one piece. And it was only then that Hermione began to worry about what might happen to him on this new mission. But she had to convince herself that he would be okay, because that was his job and he was good at it. She tried to push back the rest of what had occurred in their conversation, but the tears came out nevertheless, and the sadness of what she had just let go didn't disappear until sleep finally took her.

* * *

**Malfoy Industries**

Draco sat, staring at Hermione's workspace with a Healer's wand at his shoulder. The entire area was blocked off, but there were people everywhere. He felt lost in it all. His body was drained. He knew the curse that was set onto Hermione. It was old magic, deadly, illegal dark magic, set on shutting down the mind's ability to think – Fuhler's Curse, after the inventor.

He luckily had some training in keeping it at bay; his father had taught him that much. It wasn't simple, the counter-curse. It was almost as draining as the curse itself, unless one had special training. But when he saw Hermione lying there, it took him less than a second to start attacking the virus with every magical fiber in his being.

Luckily, the Healers had known how to get rid of it as well, and had arrived on time before he had lost too much of his magic. Now he sat with the Healers as they replenished what he had lost. It was a small price for what could have happened.

As he sat, waiting for the treatment, he was still confused by it all. Why had this even happened in the first place? Why would someone try and infiltrate his business? Was this was some sort of warning from the competition? He knew his status among some wasn't popular, especially with the tattoo on his arm, but this was unexpected to say the least.

The sound of someone calling him brought him out of his thoughts. "…finished, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded, signaling to the Healer he heard, but didn't give the man any other acknowledgement. He stumbled out of the area, wanting to be alone, wanting to figure out where she was, how she was doing. He wandered to the lift leading to his office.

His secretary wasn't there to greet him, but he didn't care. He wandered toward his office, but to his surprise, the wards told him that someone had tampered with them. Was the ploy with Hermione just a distraction? He put his wand out in a ready position and slowly opened the door. The chair was turned away from him, but upon his arrival, it swirled around to reveal someone he wasn't expecting.

* * *

**St. Mungo's Hospital  
Late**

After leaving his office, Draco had come straight to St. Mungo's to see Hermione. He had to sneak into her room because it was past visiting hours and it took some effort to do so: getting through wards, bypassing security...but he didn't care, he just wanted to see her. After everything that happened that day, especially the conversation he'd had in his office, he just wanted to make sure she was still okay.

"_You think what happened today was all I could do, Draco? Do you honestly think the Fuhler's Curse was the best of my abilities?"_

The conversation hadn't been easy, and the threats couldn't be taken lightly, especially since they had so easily gotten to her already. He needed to make sure that she wasn't hurt in any way.

"_I could make her hurt in ways you wouldn't even comprehend, Draco."_

He didn't know what he would do if their plans succeeded.

He found Hermione in bed, sleeping in a room to herself. A candle was lit by her bedside - typical Hermione. He was glad for this fact, though, as it let him see her face without drawing too much attention to himself that might wake her. It had been so long since he'd seen her sleep, a year, perhaps more? He remembered a time when it used to be normal between the two of them, but those days had passed long ago.

Worry struck him the moment he saw her face. It looked like she had been crying. The puffiness of her eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks didn't lie. And on top of that, she didn't look peaceful in her dreams. All he could hope was that all this wasn't because of him. He placed his hand over her forehead, casting a spell to end her dreams, the only thing he could do for her. He watched as her face finally relaxed.

Besides the crying, she appeared fine. He reached out anyway and cast a diagnostic charm to see how she was holding up; he was glad that her magic had been replenished. He watched her then, wondering what exactly had caused those tears. No physical pain registered on the diagnosis. Was something else happening mentally?

It was as if everything was happening at once and he couldn't find the key that would unlock all the secrets and frustrations surrounding him. Everyone was trying to destroy her, destroy them. It was obvious the two of them weren't meant to be. But after everything that happened, it had only resulted in him wanting to protect her more.

"_You didn't really think that she didn't write you all this time, did you?"_

Now he knew the truth. That was where they had gone wrong. And he had to admit it, he hadn't known. He had stupidly thought that she hadn't cared enough to write, that he meant nothing to her. But now Draco could feel the parchments in his pocket. The parchments he had never received, the ones that were intercepted. He had read them, every single last one of them. And a part of him felt elated at the sight of each one, because it had reassured him. She had cared.

She had cared for him so much, and it hurt to know that someone else had broken her heart, because he hadn't known. He hadn't seen. They had stolen everything from him, all the way down to the letters she had written him.

"_Let these serve as a warning to you, Draco. If you care for your little Mudblood as much as she cared for you, protect her by doing as I say."_

They thought that giving them back to him would serve as a warning, would show him that he needed to do as they asked because Hermione cared for him, but they were wrong. The letters only revitalized him, made him realize he had something to fight for, someone worth fighting for.

He had dragged Hermione into this mess. He had caused her all these troubles, these problems. He was the very reason she was in the hospital. She was being targeted now because of him, and he couldn't let her get hurt.

He knew what he was going to do despite what everyone wanted. He had already taken the initial steps, and that night he would take another; he had already made plans to see Greg. He knew Hermione wouldn't approve if she found out, but he was doing this for her, to keep her safe.

* * *

Draco found that it was only at the moment at which he was about to do something that all the reasons why he shouldn't do it assaulted him. And that was what was happening to him right then. He had decided that he needed to get protection for Hermione, that he would give Greg her identity so she could be protected. But now that he was there, in the Red Phoenix with Greg, all the warnings as to why he shouldn't were going off.

They had been sitting together in their usual booth for quite some time - Draco with his beer, Greg with his firewhiskey. The two had sat in relative silence for five minutes and Draco couldn't find the will to begin. He had been keeping Hermione's identity a secret for a long time now. Even that fateful night about a year ago when he divulged many details about Hermione to Greg in his drunken state, he had been sure to keep her name out of the picture.

And there were good reasons for doing so. One, Greg couldn't keep a secret. Two, Greg was on the extremist part of the scale for pureblood status, and he was the first to congratulate him on his "success" in his engagement to his soon-to-be ex-fiancée. He wouldn't be too excited to learn that the woman Draco really loved was someone who nearly took Greg's arm off in the Final Battle. And finally, the third reason was that Draco had more than once told Greg he did not condone his methods of curse-setting (which is what it really was under the euphemisms Greg smothered it with) and what was this forcing Draco to do? Eat his own words.

But despite these reasons, he had to do this for Hermione, had to put aside his pride and protect her. Sitting there, though, Draco couldn't really find where to start – which was another good reason not to ask this favor. He wanted to tell Greg everything that had happened, but he didn't really know how.

"Rumor has it that there was an explosion at your office today. I say rumor because your PR people are so brilliant one can never say for sure. But from your closed off expression, I'm starting to think it's true."

He was grateful for Greg providing the opening, though he'd never let him know. "It happened." Draco had to reveal some details, but he didn't have to give away everything.

"I see," Greg said, trying to read him. This was one of the times Draco hoped he wasn't out of touch with his facial control. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Draco released a dramatic breath. "I was hoping you'd ward off the place for me."

Greg's expression made Draco really want to hex the bastard. "Ah," he said in the most pompous way Draco thought one syllable could be said. "Do I hear a _job_ offering?" Draco drank his beer in response. Greg sat back, folding his pudgy arms. Taking Draco's silence as an affirmative, he continued, "Never thought I'd see the day when the great Draco Malfoy would need help from an under the table business. I clearly remember you saying one too many times that it was, what was it, 'wrong' for me to run my business as I do? And that you'd prefer people who were 'dignified?'" Draco realized at that instant that he hated Slytherins, as they were too willing to say "I told you so" to his face without being considerate about it in the least.

"Will you do it or not?" he demanded.

Greg let out a chuckle. "No need to be so uptight about it, Draco. I'll have your place set with so many curses that even the mice will fear living in the walls."

Draco lifted a brow. "I want it done right, Greg."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I'm just messing with you, Draco. What's wrong with you? You're so tense." Not bothering with a response, Draco took another gulp of his beer. "All kidding aside, Draco, I'll get it fixed up for you, free of charge."

Draco looked at him skeptically. Free? That was too easy. He hadn't even had to bargain the price down. There must be a catch. "Why?"

"Because I can see that there is something else you want from me, something you don't want to ask." Draco glared as Greg's face contorted into a grin. And if there was any doubt before, now it was official: Draco hated Slytherins.

Draco gritted out through his teeth, "I need you to watch someone for me, protect her."

"Your mystery girl," Greg spoke without hesitation.

"Yes," Draco said, fully trying to ignore the fact that Greg was reading him like a book.

Greg smiled. "Easy, I'll have my best trail her, low flat rate."

Draco raised a brow. With this harassment, there was no way in hell he was paying. Greg sighed reluctantly after a few moments. "Ah fine, free of charge, but only because you're my best mate."

Draco resisted the urge to hex the grin off his face. "Great," he said, because despite Greg's annoying glee, Draco was glad he finally got that off his chest. Now Hermione would be protected and he'd know she was safe, because even if Greg was an arse, he knew how to do his job, and he knew how to train others to do it as well.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Greg's chuckle. Draco looked at him. "What?" he demanded, as the manic grin on Greg's face grew.

"You forgot one key detail, mate," Greg began. Draco kept his face still as he waited, wondering what in the hell Greg was so excited about. "You have to tell me who she is."

* * *

**March 25th, 2004  
****Malfoy Industries  
****5:20 PM**

Hermione sat at her desk, waiting for her timer to go off. She only had another five minutes left before the potion was done, and since almost everyone on her floor was already clocked out, she planned to leave the potion testing for tomorrow.

The day had moved slowly for her. Despite Katie's objections, she had come to work after being released from the hospital. Even if someone was out to "get her", as Katie put it, she couldn't stay at home all day either; it would only lead to thinking about Ron, among other things. Life was just too frustrating and complicated at the moment. There were too many questions unanswered and too much unfinished business that she just wanted to put aside and not think about for a day, which she'd only be able to do if she didn't have time to herself.

But coming to work hadn't exactly been the best idea either, because her head wasn't exactly up for it. She had been warned by her doctor that the medication gave some dizziness, but Hermione hadn't felt it until she had walked into a room filled with the smell that experimental potions released.

But she fought through it and refused to go home, even when Hannah suggested she should. Because it wasn't just her life she wanted to stay away from; she still had a scheduled meeting in a week with the Malfoy Industries board to prove her potion was ready for the market, and she wasn't going to miss it, or risk keeping her potion in corporate limbo.

The thought of Malfoy Industries led her right into the big topic she was desperately avoiding: Malfoy. And along with that thought came all the questions that she had resorted to trying not to answer. She just couldn't place him, not after everything that had happened between them. With the truth revealed, where exactly did they stand? She knew now that he wasn't a bad person. She knew that what passed in Australia hadn't been his fault. She knew that he hadn't meant for it to happen, that he might've cared for her. But now what?

The engagement wasn't going to be called off, that much Hermione was certain. Wizarding engagements held a lot more weight than Muggle ones. Wizarding engagements were binding, and breaking off engagements faced consequences almost as severe as those of breaking off a marriage in the Muggle world. Rest assured it wouldn't be viewed highly in the public, which Hermione knew he probably wouldn't risk.

But knowing he wasn't going to break off his engagement didn't answer any questions. There were more. For instance, had he visited her in the hospital? She had awoken in the middle of the night to find a smell of cologne. And it wasn't a cologne that belonged to her doctor, Ron, or Harry (who had visited before they'd left for Canada). It had belonged to him. What scared her most was that it was probably in her head that she smelled his cologne, because why would he have visited her in the middle of the night?

Her thoughts were interrupted when her timer finally rang. Hermione put out the flame under her potion and began the storage process. As she finished up, the last of the people on her floor also left, leaving Hermione to lock up.

With that done, she headed toward the floo room. She was ready to get out of there and just relax in a room that didn't smell like day old rotten eggs.

When she arrived in the floo room, she was met with a surprise. A head of platinum blond hair sat in one of the seats just inside the entrance. Hermione paused, doing a double take. Her cheeks flushed as she hoped he hadn't seen that. He had been looking down, but after her embarrassing stumble he looked up at her.

He smiled. She attempted a smile in return. "Draco. What are you doing here?"

He stood and took a couple steps toward her before giving her a nonchalant shrug. "Want to have dinner with me?"

* * *

_Disclaimer_: _I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	7. Chapter 7

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: I'm back with a shiny new summary, you like? And if chapters were to have taglines, this one would be very easy for me: **

**Chapter seven: because our favorite couple deserves a break from all the drama. **

**Beta thank you's: Thanks Yuli for fitting me into your RL schedule :) **

* * *

**Chapter Seven:**

_He smiled. She attempted a smile in return. "Draco. What are you doing here?"_

_He stood and took a couple steps toward her before giving her a nonchalant shrug. "Want to have dinner with me?"_

* * *

She stared at him. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. Dinner? What about what had happened the day before? The last time she had seen him, he had been distraught and broken beyond repair, but now he wanted to have dinner?

"Why?" she asked, extending the word to show her suspicions.

He shrugged again. "I thought we could be friends."

Hermione really looked at him now, trying to dissect a rationalization for what was happening, but damn him, he was so good at hiding his feelings. "Look, Draco, with all our history-"

"Okay, fine," he interrupted almost immediately. "Just dinner, then."

She was still hesitant. She knew "just dinner" didn't mean just dinner. She knew that "just dinner" could lead to a rekindling of feelings. It could lead to her remembering a few too many of those times in Australia when she had loved him, and that could lead to major consequences. After all, there was still Ron somewhere in the picture, even if he was in the background, and he still had Asteria whether he liked it or not. And not to mention, there was the whole idea of whether or not they could even be just friends with each other…

"It's just one dinner, Hermione."

And there it was – the line. The line that had started everything three years ago. However, it still affected her subconsciously, as Hermione prided herself on her ability to overcome challenges, to be brave in situations and not back down.

He held out his hand to her.

She looked up at him and he flashed her a smile.

She could feel her reasoning falter at the sight.

It was against all reason. It was against everything she had told herself within that last year, against everything that she had promised herself. It made all those hours of tears, worry, anxiety, fear, and anger go to waste, and yet she still did it.

She placed her hand in his.

* * *

**Draco's Flat**

He was being evasive, and brilliantly so. She had tried three times during this "just dinner" to get him to explain what was going on. Each time had resulted in him being more evasive.

Her first attempt had been light. She hadn't tried too hard to push for answers, merely curious. It had been about five minutes into dinner. The two of them had floo'd to his flat, which was impressive but expected in Hermione's eyes. A part of her thought he would still be living in the manor with his parents, to which he brushed off.

And if she really thought it through enough, she figured it would make sense if he wasn't living with them anymore, considering the newfound knowledge of his mother's fake illness and all that. But the flat didn't look like he had just moved in; it felt lived in, and he moved through too easily for it to have been a hasty decision.

After arriving, it had only taken a couple of minutes before Mimi, the house-elf, announced dinner was ready. Hermione had attempted to engage the elf in a conversation; after all, they had sort of lived together in Australia. But the elf had been too nervous for Hermione to really ask many questions.

When he had pulled out a chair for her at the dining table, Hermione's first attempt had spilled out of her mouth. "What's going on, Draco?"

"We're eating dinner." She hadn't missed his lack of eye contact.

"Why are we eating dinner?"

"Well," he'd said, taking a seat across from her, "as humans, we need sustenance. And as it so happens, this sustenance needs replenishing three times a day, which can get a bit bland at times. So if I have the opportunity to have company over while it occurs, I will."

Soup had arrived as he finished his evasive answer, and when Hermione took a bite, her curiosity had been sated and replaced with the taste of food.

After the soup, while the plates were being changed, Hermione had realized he'd never answered her question. And with soup in her belly, she hadn't thought food would distract her again. "Draco, why are you eating dinner with _me_ of all people?" He had friends that he was on better terms with, his fiancée…

He'd merely shrugged. "I got word that Weasley and Potter are out of town, and I figured we could both use some company."

Hermione had opened her mouth again but had been presented with the main course, which he used as a distraction to change topics, asking her how she felt. With that, her aches, pains, and dizziness had taken over her mouth, commandeering the conversation through a majority of the main meal, until she had asked him about his day, her curiosity once again temporarily forgotten.

By the third attempt, while they had been waiting on dessert, she had figured out what was going on. She knew what he was doing, and she had decided that specifics were going to be her best bet. "What is your fiancée going to think of you eating dinner with me?"

He'd responded, "Would you like some pie?"

It hadn't been ordinary pie; it was lemon meringue, her favorite. "Yes, please." All other thoughts had halted at that point.

But now he couldn't use food to evade her questions, because they were sitting in the living room, looking out his window onto magical London. She held a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, while he held tea. "Draco," she said, not looking at him, but rather out the window.

"Hmm?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "I need to know what is happening here. Stop evading me and answer my questions."

She turned to him, placing her drink on the coffee table. She watched as he did the same.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, giving her a look that told her he was all ears.

"What happened the other day?"

She saw his eyes widen, before he turned to look out the window. "Nothing," he said.

Hermione nodded. "You weren't yourself that day."

He shrugged. "I was surprised by what I found out."

"Are you still surprised?" Hermione asked. He looked at her, confusion clearly on his face. "Draco, if this is some kind of coping mechanism or mask, you can drop it. I'd understand."

He merely looked at her before picking up his tea and drinking from it.

Hermione sighed. "Where does everything that has happened leave us, Draco? I watched the memories, I know what's going on. You can't take them back anymore."

He was silent for a long while, before he spoke again. "Look, Hermione. I know what has happened is unchangeable; it will affect how you see me no matter what I do. But I want to forget about it. I want to start over. I've realized that, after all of this has happened, I'm tired of people controlling me, telling me what to do. I don't give a damn anymore about any of it. I honestly don't give a fuck."

Hermione waited for him to continue. Was he still being evasive? Because he still hadn't answered her question. "Am I one of those people that you think are controlling you?" she asked hesitantly, wanting clarification.

He looked at her. "No. Never." Hermione nodded, and he continued, "The only thing I know that isn't fake in my life right now is you." Hermione could feel her heart racing and she blamed it on the way he was looking at her. "Can we just…start over, Hermione?"

"As friends?" she asked, before rationally thinking through what exactly she was saying.

It was silent between them for a moment as they looked into each other's eyes. Hermione didn't know what she was looking for, or what she saw. The only thing she knew was that, looking into his eyes at that moment, she didn't know if she could have denied him anything he asked.

"Yes."

* * *

**March 28th, 2004  
****Malfoy Industries**

Monday morning found Draco in a conference room with the four other members of the Malfoy Industries Board, all of whom Draco despised for one reason or another. The first was Crabbe's great-uncle. He was a fat bastard whose greatest love was scotch, though he did have the occasional affair with a witch. He was a no good, rotten, pudgy, old man who was bitter in life and name. But of course, Draco had no right to fire him. He had been on the board longer than Draco had been alive.

And then there was Parkinson, Pansy's grandfather, and the reason he had met Pansy before Hogwarts. He was a sinister, old man who believed that blood was the ultimate power.

The other two members on his board were MacDougal and Selwyn, who were much closer to Draco's age, but couldn't find any ambition or vision even if Draco dropped it on top of their heads. Draco wondered how fortunate they felt every day, knowing their jobs were merely handed to them on a silver platter.

The four of them, plus Draco, were his pathetic excuse for a board, and there was nothing he could do about it. Firing them would garner disapproval from the purebloods, while the rest of the wizarding world couldn't care less. So he was stuck with them, though sometimes the stupidity they held between them made Draco want to use all the Unforgivable Curses he had sworn never to use again.

Draco had stopped listening to them all a while ago. They were arguing over the same matters they always did; Crabbe and Parkinson disagreed on everything, while MacDougal and Selwyn tried to hide themselves safely away until discussion was over. The two of them were all high and mighty until the moment they entered the conference room; then they were no braver than a pair of newborn house-elves.

But Draco had more important things to think about than the board. He knew Parkinson and Crabbe were fighting over whether a potion should be distributed and were pleading their cases to him, but Draco hadn't been listening for the past fifteen minutes.

His mind kept drifting back to Hermione, to last night, to dinner. She was so difficult to get through to sometimes. Even when he would go and lay things out to her as clear as day, she still didn't understand.

He had been pleading with her, for her to take him back, for them to work out what they had, to make it work. But she hadn't understood. Either that, or she had rejected him, but he refused to think the latter. Instead, she asked if he had meant friendship.

No, he hadn't meant fucking friendship.

He didn't want to be friends with her. He wanted more than that. But within the past fifteen minutes or so, Draco had realized that friendship was where he stood with her now, and he'd have to change that.

Draco looked at his watch. The time had finally come: 12:00. Lunch time. He had been waiting for it all day.

Parkinson and Crabbe were still arguing, but Draco decided that he was through with all of this. He made his attention known in the room and everyone quieted and looked to him.

Draco looked at the inventor, whose name he couldn't remember, and to the members of the board. "The answer is no. The potion will not pass." Crabbe made to interject immediately. "I won't pass a potion that has a success rate of 1/10 no matter what you tell me. We have standards, and I'm not breaking them."

Crabbe silenced.

Draco continued, "I'm sorry, Crabbe, that your potion isn't getting through. I know you desperately wanted the pension you would have received off its production." Crabbe looked at him nervously, wringing his hands like an old drunk without his whiskey. "Did you think I wouldn't read the contract?"

There was no response from anyone in the room, so Draco continued, "I call this meeting to an end." He turned to the inventor. "You're dismissed."

The boy packed up his things and hastily left.

It was silent between the board members before Draco stood. "If you all don't mind, I'm going to take my lunch hour. Meetings will resume at two."

* * *

**12:00 PM**

Hermione sat, absentmindedly writing up the documents for her presentation on Thursday. It was already Monday. Hermione sighed. She had work to do.

Her mind wasn't completely focused on her work, though. Instead, it constantly drifted to another topic: Malfoy. Or was it Draco again? They had agreed to be friends, but she didn't know for sure.

What did that mean, anyway? What kind of friends did he mean by that? Friends that saw each other once a year and only when they passed each other in the street? Friends that got the occasional coffee? Friends that ate out once a week together? Best friends? The word "friends" was so broad, it was frustrating.

And could they even be friends? They had never entered that territory before. They had gone from enemies to nothingness to couple. She placed her head on the table. She obviously wasn't getting her work done; she needed to focus.

But how was she supposed to focus when he kept running through her head?

"Hermione?"

"What?" she mumbled into her arms.

"It's lunch time."

Hermione looked up to see Hannah, who looked ready to leave. "Are you heading out?" Hermione asked confusedly.

Hannah smiled. "Yes, I'm taking a half day to go see my son perform in the school play."

Hermione had met Hannah's son before, an adorable, bouncy five year old.

"Does he have a lead role?"

"No," Hannah said, shaking her head. "He shall play the role of 'Person Number Three.'"

Hermione let out a laugh. "Well, I think the role of 'Person Number Three' is as important as any other."

Hannah let out a laugh. "That's what I told him."

Smiling, Hermione continued, "Well, I hope you enjoy the play."

Hannah grinned, before putting on her motherly face. "I will, and you, young lady, need to go eat."

And as if to second the proposition, Hermione's stomach growled. She looked sheepishly at Hannah. "I will." Hannah continued to look at Hermione. Grumbling, she stood. "Okay, I'm going," she said, heading toward the door.

Hannah walked beside her. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetie," she said.

Hermione smiled. "You too."

And then Hermione was walking alone to the cafeteria, which wasn't a good thing, as it left her mind free to think of whatever it wished, and it seemed to like to think about a certain someone.

She headed toward the cafeteria, which was a long trek from where she worked. The trek spanned over a couple levels and a walk to the other side of the floor to reach the employee lifts, because some poor planner had decided to put them on the edge of the floor, next to the floo room.

* * *

Twenty minutes later found Hermione seated at a table to herself. She hadn't realized that people were being wary of her, because of what had happened the day before. She figured her mind had been too preoccupied to notice.

She had just taken a stab at her salad when suddenly someone was in her light. Hermione looked up, ready to greet the one person who was willing to talk to her. But the moment she saw who it was, words slipped from her mind.

"Hermione," he greeted her.

He waited a moment in Hermione's silence before he sat down in front of her.

Regaining her ability to speak, Hermione asked, "What are you doing here? This is the _employee_ cafeteria."

Draco looked at her as if she had pointed out the obvious. "Indeed."

"You don't eat here." Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" he asked.

Hermione was at a lost for words. Yes, why not? He had never been there before, but that didn't particularly mean that he wasn't _allowed_ to eat there.

Hermione felt a change in subject was necessary. "Why are you here?"

He looked at her, amused, before he continued, "I wanted to see you…friend." He added the last bit after a hesitation.

Hermione nodded, finding the word "friend" sound extremely unusual coming from him. It was then Hermione noticed he didn't have food. "Are you going to eat?" she asked, taking a bite of her salad.

He looked down at the food Hermione was currently eating, looking repulsed. Hermione bit down a laugh, before eating another mouthful just to mess with him.

"What is that concoction?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged, not remembering, and completely focused on his appalled facial expression. "Your cafeteria food."

He cleared his throat. "I'm going to need a word with the chef," he mumbled.

Hermione only laughed. The food in the cafeteria wasn't that bad. It was okay, acceptable. It didn't taste half as bad as Draco made it seem, but Draco had always been an eater by looks. The better the presentation of the food, the more he liked it.

"If you aren't going to eat, then why are you here?" she asked.

Draco picked off some imaginary lint from his robes. "I wanted to see you, remember?" It was something about his tone that did it. That's what she was blaming it on, because this time when he said it, she could tell it hadn't had anything to do with being "friends". She could feel her heart race, though she attributed that to the sudden heat in the room.

"Why?" she managed to squeak.

He looked at her and their eyes locked. She could feel her heart thrumming and her pulse racing. And then he smiled. "To ask you about dinner."

* * *

**Draco's Flat  
****8:00 PM**

The evening found Hermione at Draco's flat. Dinner, which had been all of Mimi's doing, had been nice. Hermione sat by the window waiting. There was a light rain outside, though it was nothing Hermione could complain about since she wasn't caught in it.

Behind her, Hermione heard the sound of cups clinking against wood. "Do you still take your hot chocolate the same way?" she heard Draco call from the kitchen.

"Yes," Hermione said, staring outside again. The sound of rain always had a calming effect on her. She turned at the sound of footsteps.

"Here you are," he said, offering her hot chocolate. Hermione smiled, taking a whiff; it always smelled amazing. She waited as Draco took a seat beside her before taking a sip.

"Still a tea drinker?" Hermione asked, more rhetorically than seriously.

He smiled. "Of course."

Hermione smiled into her cup. It was nice sitting here with Draco on just some normal night, the smells of their drinks, her hot chocolate and his tea, filtering through the room. It reminded her of home –

The next thing Hermione knew the cup was leaving her hand. Before she was able to grab it, though, it froze in midair. She looked over at Draco, whose concern was washed across his face. "You okay there?" he asked.

Hermione blinked, shaking her head a few times quickly. "Yes, I'm just – sorry," she said as he retrieved the cup for her.

He placed it on the table. "You sure?"

She nodded, turning away toward the window, her mind reeling. There was no denying it, her thoughts had wandered there. Deep down in her subconscious, there was no denying it. He reminded her of home. Not back at her house, but the flat they had pretty much shared together in Australia. Home.

She turned to Draco, whose face was still flooded with concern.

* * *

**March 30th, 2004  
****Malfoy Industries**

Draco waited for Hermione by the floo room as he had been doing the past couple of nights. He realized that each night he was left waiting a longer amount of time. She had been working on the paperwork for the board meeting tirelessly the past few days. He had told her that she could push the date back, to which she refused adamantly, but when he asked her why she refused to give him the details.

But if she didn't want to push it back, he wouldn't push her too hard. He didn't want her to get angry with him. He missed her too much to let her leave again. It painfully hurt sometimes to remain in the friend zone she had placed him in. Sometimes he wanted to just take her hand, or buy her flowers, or appear at her desk. But she didn't seem to want that, so he'd take what he could get, because this past year wasn't something he wanted to repeat.

He missed her.

It was plain and simple, and being in her company again made him realize all the more why she couldn't leave him again no matter what. He didn't know what he'd do if she did.

He looked at his wristwatch; it was 5:30. Her hours ended at 5 o'clock along with everyone else's, but that never seemed to stop her.

Draco sat on one of the couches in the floo room. Dinner was set, and he thought that he might finally tell her, tell her about where his life stood. But then again, he had told himself that yesterday and he hadn't said a word. He knew he was being a coward, afraid of rejection. But despite knowing this, he didn't know how to bring himself to ask her for a second chance. A real second chance, none of this "just friends" business she'd been keen about lately.

* * *

Hermione looked at her watch and read 5:30. She figured she'd best get going. Draco was probably waiting for her. It was the third night in a row they were having dinner.

She knew what she was doing might deserve some criticism, especially when Ron came into the picture. They called a break, but that didn't mean what she was doing was okay. She was supposed to be figuring out her feelings, not seeing Draco behind Ron's back.

But at this moment in her internal dilemma, her rational side always argued that she wasn't doing anything truly wrong. She and Ron had never said they were exclusive. They always insisted that the two of them weren't official, despite other people's prodding and rumors. And on top of that, she and Draco weren't doing anything except eating in each other's company every night. They were friends. There was nothing wrong with that.

She tried to think there wasn't, though sometimes at these dinners she could feel herself not thinking of the two of them as friends at all. But at those times Hermione had to take a step back from it all and take a deep breath. Because Malfoy was engaged, he had Asteria, and he wasn't going to leave her. It would be the talk of the town for weeks if he did. So keeping Draco at a distance was the best choice, because it made sure that she was able to keep herself separated from him.

Done with cleaning, Hermione walked toward the floo room, where she knew he'd be waiting. She couldn't help herself from stopping in front of a mirror in the corridor to fix up her hair. She wanted to look good, was all.

When she got to the room, it was just Malfoy. Everyone else had gone home. Hermione didn't realize she was that late. When she got there, he stood from a couch, waiting to greet her. "Hermione," he said, smiling. He reached out to take her hand, but Hermione drew back.

It was quiet for a second while Hermione searched for something to fill the space with. "Sorry I'm late. The meeting's tomorrow, so I just wanted to make sure everything was ready."

He blinked, before clearing his throat and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yes, um, it's fine. Shall we?" he asked gesturing for the nearest fire place.

Hermione smiled, before stepping in and saying his address.

* * *

They arrived minutes later back at Draco's flat. Hermione put her things down and he took her coat for her, before the two of them made their way over to the dining room.

"Hungry?" he asked.

Hermione smiled, taking a seat. "Starved. I didn't eat lunch today."

He looked at her patronizingly. "Why not?"

She shrugged. "Meeting tomorrow."

He looked at her, rolling his eyes as the appetizer appeared before them. "I told you it'll be fine. I know for a fact that the CEO will approve," he said sitting straighter in his seat.

Hermione smiled, unconvinced, before taking a bite. After she swallowed, she continued, "You're just one person, Draco. I need to convince two more. Did it ever occur to you that your board is completely pureblooded?"

He looked at her patronizingly again. "Your blood status has nothing to do with their decisions."

Hermione only smiled at his ignorance. "Oh, Draco, how you have been spoiled. You know nothing of the realities of this world." When Hermione could tell he clearly didn't understand, she continued, "Do you honestly think that my blood status won't affect their decision?"

He looked at her like he she had grown another head. "Yes."

Hermione smiled down at her plate before looking up at him. He was looking at her like she was being ridiculous. If only that was the case. "Fine, I'll make you a deal."

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Don't speak for the first thirty minutes of the meeting tomorrow."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I want you to see how incredibly biased the society we live in today is."

"You sound absurd. Blood purity and status in the professional world died with the war."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it didn't, Draco. It lives on just as strong. You're a pureblood, so you wouldn't know."

"Fine."

"Fine?" Hermione asked.

"I'll take your deal."

"Good. Then you will see how biased you purebloods really are," Hermione said, holding her wine glass to him. They drank to seal the deal.

* * *

_A/N: That was definitely lighter in tone, so for those wanting to see some lighter stuff between our main couple… that was for you. And for people looking for drama, I promise you some next chapter!_

_Disclaimer_: _I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	8. Chapter 8

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: I still can't believe that I'm already posting chapter 8. This story has 12 chapters in total. It amazes me that we're this far. Ah! It's almost over. **

**Thanks for the beta work Yuli. :) You're the best!**

**Tagline: The drama returns**

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

**March 31st, 2004**  
**Malfoy Industries **

The arguments with the board were going on longer than she had anticipated. It had been bad at Griffith & Sons, but this was at another level. Even though she had been ready this time, prepared to spell it out to them and ram the test results down their throats, they still kept talking in circles. The board argued that her potion needed more testing, an extensive amount that would take months to complete, but Hermione wasn't fooled. She knew it was their way of placing her potion in corporate limbo, and she wasn't going to let that happen. She wasn't going to sit by and let them run her over.

In the conference room, her main competition were Parkinson and Crabbe. The other two simply sat, too nervous or unwilling to fight with both their superiors and one of their saviors from Voldemort. Draco was silently watching the entire affair from the front of the table as she had hoped he would. Somewhere along the line, when she stepped back from their incessant and stupidly inane arguments, she realized that this was her life as a Muggle-born witch, one of the most looked down on combinations in the wizarding world.

She wanted Draco to see this, though, to prove to him that blood status still meant everything in this world. And deep down, she wanted him to see why the two of them hadn't and wouldn't work out romantically. It couldn't happen, not just because his parents were complete blood status bigots, but because the rest of the wizarding world was, as well.

All her life she felt this prejudice, and to her this was the norm. And while she had built endless amounts of protection against it, he hadn't, which explained to her why he was so distraught the day he had found out why his parents had broken them up.

She knew that they had a bet going on, that he wouldn't speak for the first thirty minutes of the meeting, but part of her didn't want him to help her at all. She merely wanted him to see.

"Miss Granger, I don't think a week of testing will suffice to put the potion on the market. More testing needs to be done." It was Parkinson's turn, as Crabbe had already had his go at it five minutes ago.

"I've done all the testing, sir," she said, struggling to keep her fists unclenched and her teeth from grinding. "It's in the paperwork in front of you if you would just be willing to look at it."

"I have looked at it, Miss Granger..." Hermione internally rolled her eyes, as she knew for a fact that he hadn't even glanced at it yet. "…and honestly, with such little evidence, we can't be sure."

"Then what part of my testing has been insufficient for you?" Hermione asked.

They were silent for a moment, before Crabbe and Parkinson leaned in to whisper to each other. But there was nothing wrong with what she had done; she was sure it was flawless. She had worked on it until she knew it was to the standards it was supposed to be.

"We would just feel more comfortable, Miss Granger, if you had a little more testing done."

Hermione wanted to hex them into oblivion. They were stupid, old, fat arses with nothing but arrogance stuffed up their – "I think we should continue this meeting after lunch."

For the first time in the past two hours, the voice hadn't come from her, Crabbe, or Parkinson. Hermione looked to the source, Draco, before flicking her eyes at the clock. Indeed, it was one o'clock already. "That won't do, Malfoy. We have a meeting scheduled after two."

Draco looked down at a paper in front of him. "It seems we do."

He better not. Hermione didn't want to hear him say it. She refused to believe he would say it. "We'll need to reschedule -"

"No," Hermione interrupted, "I refuse to reschedule this meeting." She didn't want them to put off her meeting for another year just so they could remain superior in their arrogantly stupid ways.

"- for tomorrow," Draco finished. Hermione wasn't having it. She didn't want them out of the room until they passed her potion through. She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off. "Say, at eight?" he drowned her out. Hermione glared at Draco. What was he doing? He wasn't supposed to interfere like this. This was the last thing that he should be doing. He was only giving them time to think and find more ridiculous reasons on why they shouldn't pass her potion. Hermione had been pressuring them for hours now and she knew they were about to break, so why in the hell was he doing this?

No one spoke to answer Draco's question, and it was silent for a few seconds. Hermione refused to confirm, and she felt no one else should either and that the meeting should continue.

"Very well," Draco said, continuing as if the pause hadn't occurred. "We'll resume tomorrow." No one moved. "You may leave." The finality in his voice was unquestionable.

The four board members stood then. They were all clearly being dismissed. Hermione didn't budge; instead she just stared at Draco. When the door finally shut and it was just the two of them, Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer. "What in Merlin's name was that, Draco?!" She was fuming. She'd almost won the argument, almost had them at their breaking point. Then he had to go and ruin it. "What was that bullshit you just pulled?"

Draco looked at her straight on. "They weren't going to budge, Hermione. They weren't going to change their minds."

Hermione fought the urge to throw something at him. "They would have if I had pushed my case another hour."

"Tiring them won't change their minds."

"It worked last time," Hermione said, referencing her battle with the Jason Potion.

"Look," he said, "they obviously aren't going to budge today. We just need to come back with some kind of argument they can't dispute."

Hermione took a breath and closed her eyes, realizing her muscles were completely tense. She was having this argument with the wrong person. He just wanted to help her. She sat down and gathered her paperwork. "I know." She could hear him get up and walk closer to her, but she didn't move. "I just don't want to go through the same argument again, and I feel like we will tomorrow."

Draco took the seat nearest her. "We'll work something out."

"We?" Hermione asked. "You better not blackmail them."

Draco laughed slowly, and from the sound of it, Hermione guessed that had been his plan. "I won't."

Hermione looked at him. He smiled. "I guess I lost our little bet from yesterday," he said.

Hermione nodded, in a way that told him he definitely stated the obvious. "What do you want for winning?" he asked.

Hermione smiled, something that felt nice after hours of arguing. "Ice cream, please."

* * *

**April 1st, 2004  
Hermione's Flat**

Hermione stood looking in the mirror. She looked, in her opinion, completely business professional. She cast the final charms to make sure that everything stayed in place. She didn't want the purebloods to have any reason to undermine her, least of all her looks.

The meeting had gone terribly. She knew it would be bad, but she hadn't known that, despite having absolutely no evidence against her potion, they'd still push for it to undergo more incessant testing. It was outrageous.

What really boggled her mind, though, was the fact that Draco had called the meeting to an end. He had no right to do so, even if he did it because the meeting was getting nowhere. He had claimed that it would be best to have time to regroup and figure out a strategy.

She was still upset with him, had made it clear even at Florean Fortescue's. She had refused dinner with him to meet up with Katie, who she had been neglecting since she had started her new routine of dinner with Draco.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that Draco messed with her business, and she knew that her strongest point against them was that she had been so prepared. Now that they knew what was coming, they could actually prepare themselves if they so wished. It made Hermione furious; now she would have to work doubly hard.

The Malfoy board was absolutely outrageous in her eyes. It represented everything about pureblood society that she hated. From the fact that every single person in that room was of pureblood status, to the fact that they were all men. She had half a mind to pursue that as a part time career - reestablishing society so that the old ways were over and done with.

Hermione looked at her wristwatch; it was time to go. She gathered her paperwork, slipped it into her purse, and got ready to floo in.

She wasn't going to back down on this. If she had to, she was going to force them to pass her potion.

* * *

**Malfoy Industries**

Hermione stood outside the conference room, calming her nerves. The receptionist had already told her she could go in. This was it. She was going to get it out on the market.

She pushed the door open and walked in. Only when she placed her things down did she finally look up at the four pairs of eyes before her. And then she realized one pair was missing.

Hermione looked straight in front of her and saw Draco's empty chair.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Parkinson said.

Hermione stared at Draco's empty seat. Where was he? How could he abandon her like this? "Good morning, sir," she choked out.

Where the bloody hell was he? She was completely pissed off. He just left her, abandoned her in this meeting to be alone, when he had told her he'd be there for her. A part of her said she shouldn't even be surprised, given his track record. "Miss Granger, after our little recess I was able to thoroughly read your work. I saw that your potion wasn't meant to cure Grataro Fungus, but rather Fiendfyre burns. This is a worry to the board. The two infections are of a very different source. How can we present a potion designed for Fiendfyre burns as a cure for Grataro Fungus?"

Hermione tried to focus on the argument they were presenting to her. She closed her eyes a moment to clear her head. Damn him if he wasn't there. She didn't need him anyway. "Grataro Fungus is actually quite magically similar to Fiendfyre, sir. They both spread rapidly over the body once exposed, and they both damage the skin beyond repair."

"But, even so, one's a fungus, Miss Granger, and one is a burn. I honestly don't feel it would be safe to take that risk to the market."

And there it was again: the argument about more testing, more safety measures, and the market. Parkinson really was a bastard. Hermione rebutted, "It's been proven to work, sir. It's all over my documents. The potion may not have been initially designed to treat Grataro Fungus, but nevertheless, it still works for it."

"But that's precisely it, isn't it, Miss Granger? It's in _your_ documents. We want further testing from _other_ potioneers."

"Are you saying my work isn't competent?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the most professional of tones.

"Well, Miss Granger, I can't say that your potion work has been proven to live up to the Malfoy Industries standards quite yet."

Hermione's teeth clenched despite herself. She took in a breath, before continuing, "It has, sir. Malfoy Industries is currently brewing and distributing one of my potions."

"Yes, but that potion was not passed through this company. It was simply handed over to us, and we had no choice but to accept and distribute it."

How. Dare. They. How dare they say that her potion wasn't up to standard when it had been proven to work flawlessly all over Australia. "I disagree," Hermione said. She placed her hands on the table, and tried her very best to maintain a face one would in polite company. But they deserved none of it. They were bastards, arses, and fat, old men who couldn't get enough of their damn blood status or whiskey and felt that they could run over her just because she wasn't an inbreed. "The Jason Potion has a brilliant success rate."

"And what would that rate be?" Crabbe asked curtly.

"Ninety seven percent," she recited without hesitation.

"Ah, that leaves three percent of doubt, doesn't it?" Parkinson clipped.

If he honestly thought that a potion was supposed to cure every person, then he knew nothing about how potions worked in the real world. There were always cases that would fall through, children who were too young and the damage too great. There would be people who didn't know they were infected until it was too late. It wasn't as if changing anything with the Jason Potion could stop that three percent from existing. Not everyone could be cured, it was a fact of life. But if it was one thing Hermione knew, it was that her success rate was brilliant. "Ninety seven percent is no joking matter, sir."

He looked at her. "Are you saying the three percent is?"

Hermione could feel blood boiling; she didn't think she could keep this inane conversation going on with them any longer. The three percent was unfortunate. She didn't feel she deserved that three percent, but accidents happened and irreversible things occurred. She couldn't do anything about it.

And that's when Hermione realized she was being run over. They were deliberately pushing her into a corner. And it was working.

She wouldn't allow it any longer. Standing straighter, Hermione was about to tell the entire board where they could shove their pompous, patronizing, fucked up reasoning, when suddenly the door behind her flew open.

She turned. Who was it? She had half a mind to hex the intruder for merely interrupting the plan she was churning that was due for the stupid board.

But when she turned, her eyes were met with Draco's.

He looked as if he was in a hurry; his clothes were in disarray and his hair was threatening to lose its precise placement. He was also juggling a file in his hands. "Malfoy, you're late," a voice behind Hermione said.

She continued to stare at him as he closed the door behind him quietly. He wouldn't look at her, which made her more suspicious of his behavior. They all watched as he made his way to his seat at the opposite end of the room. "Yes, I am late. I was caught up in business early this morning."

"Business? There's nothing in your schedule." The voice came from one of the timid members of the board.

Draco sat down. Only then did he look at Hermione, but she couldn't read him. His face was sealed off in a way that told everyone he was all business right now. But he didn't break eye contact as he continued to speak. "No, I did this very last minute." He paused, and Hermione knew it was for dramatic effect. "I went down to St. Mungo's early this morning."

"St. Mungo's? You aren't scheduled to visit until May."

He continued to look at Hermione. She felt like he was trying to tell her something, but she wasn't sure what. "I went there to do some beta testing for a new potential potion to be put on the market." And then it clicked in Hermione's head. "A potion that would potentially cure Grataro Fungus." He continued on, "It turns out that Grataro Fungus happens to be a rather common ailment at St. Mungo's, and one with painful symptoms and treatment. There were three people willing to try the new potion."

"The results?" someone in the room asked haughtily.

"The fungus disappeared, the people cured. The doctors were amazed; the hospital's already ordered one hundred bottles."

Hermione's knees felt weak, and her legs gave way to the seat that she hadn't been using. Her potion had worked; it had already helped cure three people. She couldn't hide her shock from the board.

"So I think it's safe to say that the potion should be placed on the market, or at the very least, mass produced for healers. Wouldn't you?" Draco asked.

The members of the board around Hermione were silenced into stillness, but Hermione was too elated to enjoy their looks of defeat.

Her potion was going to be passed; it was going to be on the market. It was going to help people all around the world.

* * *

"Let's take a break, shall we?" Draco asked after all the final arrangements were made. Hermione heard the sound of the other members leaving.

Hermione simply sat in shock, stunned. She couldn't believe it. Her potion had passed, and it was already being requested on the markets. It was so brilliant and fantastic that she couldn't believe it.

She heard the sound of Draco standing from his chair, though she was too in shock to move. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know."

Draco laughed. "Never thought I'd see you speechless."

Hermione looked up at him, giving him a look of annoyance. "Well, enjoy it, because it won't happen again." She smiled, and then she remembered she needed to say something before she forgot. "Thank you, Draco."

He smiled in return before taking the seat next to her. "You deserve it."

Hermione smiled again, before her next question rolled off her tongue uncontrollably. "Why did you do it? It wasn't your place. You didn't need to."

He merely shrugged. "I figured that I could hit two birds with one spell."

"And what two birds would that be?" Hermione questioned.

He smiled. "Well, for one, I got some sadistic pride from effectively silencing the members of my board, and two, I was able to see your face when you knew your hard work paid off…I missed it last time."

Hermione's smile melted from her eyes at the last part of his statement. She looked down to try and brush it off. "Well, thanks."

"You already said that," he said.

Hermione looked up and realized he was a lot closer than he had been earlier. All she was aware of was the pounding in her chest, the ringing in her ears, and the smell of his cologne inches from her. And in the back of her mind, Hermione heard a voice telling her a message she knew wasn't the correct one.

But at that moment she didn't care. All the thoughts that had been screaming at her for what seemed to be forever disappeared as she leaned forward to meet his lips to hers.

It wasn't their first kiss, and it wasn't a kiss that brought Hermione passions she couldn't control. It was soft and sweet. But there was something about it that was right. Something about it made Hermione want it to last forever. For a while, all her problems and tribulations were forgotten. All that mattered to Hermione was the taste of his lips on hers.

When it finally ended, he placed his forehead against hers. "I've missed that." A small smile escaped her lips as she silently seconded. Kissing Draco was definitely something she had missed.

And then, like a Bludger to the face, it hit Hermione what exactly was going on.

Abruptly, she stood. She took three steps back before saying, "What are we doing?"

"I'd say we were-"

She cut him off. "We can't do this, Draco."

He sighed, standing. "Why not?" he asked, taking a step closer to her.

"For one, you have a fiancée."

He shrugged. "My 'fiancée' won't be a problem much longer."

Hermione stared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm –"

There was a knock on the door.

Hermione turned. The door opened slightly and the receptionist poked her head in. "Draco, your next meeting is scheduled to be in five minutes."

"I understand," Draco said irritably, and the door closed again.

Hermione turned to pack her things; she just wanted to get out of there. "Where are you going?" She could tell he was getting closer by the proximity of his voice.

"I'm leaving before your next meeting."

"We have five minutes."

Hermione looked up. "Well, I want to be gone before then."

"Can we talk about this over dinner, then?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, taking a step back from him. "No." He looked to her surprised and...hurt? Hermione shook her head again. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I agreed to go to a party with Katie tonight."

She looked up for his reaction, but he didn't give her one. It was silent between the two of them, and Hermione couldn't find the will to look in his eyes for more than a few seconds. "I'm going to go now."

And on that note, Hermione turned and left him in the conference room.

* * *

Draco listened to his lawyer drone on about why the decision he was making was a bad one. Draco had figured out, after attempting to shut the man up countless times, that perhaps this was a lecture he was required to hear out. But in all honesty, Draco didn't really care anymore. He didn't give a damn what society would perceive of him, because it didn't matter. None of it mattered. He just wanted her.

He had been trying to find a lawyer to terminate his engagement with Asteria for the past week, but no one wanted to touch it. Draco figured his parents were probably too feared for the lawyers to touch. There would be repercussions of breaking off the engagement, but Draco was trying to convince the lawyers that they'd be heavily rewarded for helping him, which explained why Draco had to listen to the droning. He had to get the lawyer to think that he listened to and valued his opinion, which he really didn't. He just wanted the man to give him the paperwork and break the magical tie between him and Asteria.

He had kissed Hermione. His will to uphold her "friend zone" had shattered into a million pieces. She had looked so excited, so happy for such a small thing as getting her potion passed through the board. Did she think he wouldn't do it for her?

As for the kiss, Draco could tell she had seemed to want it just as much as he had needed it, though he knew she'd never admit to that. She was a timid creature, unsure of what to do and easily frightened. He couldn't kiss her the way he wanted to, but he knew if he went about it slowly enough, she wouldn't realize what exactly was happening and would be able to see how much she wanted it as well. It had worked. For a while, she seemed to forget her stand on their "friend zone", and it was a few minutes that would harbor in his mind until the next one.

Of course, the aftermath was not as fun. She had even resorted to using his fiancée as a reason for them to stay in the "friend zone". Didn't she understand that he was going to break it off anyway, whether he loved Hermione or not? He wasn't going to stick to the decisions made by his fucked up family and their familial relations. He didn't want that anymore. He only wanted her.

So he was stuck listening to the droning of the lawyer in the hopes that he would free him from the bloody engagement.

And all the while, his mind drifted to a certain brunette witch.

* * *

Hermione sat at her desk, staring at her potion. It was actually happening. She had gotten her potion through. All she needed was the remaining paperwork and it would be on the market. Looking down at the contract, Hermione was just about to dip her quill in ink and sign her name on one of the many lines that required it when a letter landed on her paperwork.

She picked it up without much thought and opened it. It read:

_Miss Granger,_

_You have a visitor waiting in the lobby._

Hermione looked at it again. A visitor? Who was it? Hermione took her wand and put her paperwork in her desk before locking it. She then proceeded to the lobby. The walk did her no good, however, because the moment her mind was free, a certain someone swarmed into it.

She had kissed Draco. _She_ had kissed him; _she_ was an active participant. It was completely unacceptable behavior; he had a fiancée, for crying out loud. Hermione shook her head as the memories of the kiss flashed back through her head. She tried to put the images and thoughts away, but they kept re-circling.

She had kissed Draco. Her attempt of the friend zone was failing, and she was part of the reason. The only option Hermione could conceive to do now was to avoid Draco like the plague. She needed to stay away from him so that these feelings could disappear once again. She didn't want to be involved in a relationship she knew would end badly for her.

When she exited the lift, her eyes were met with her visitor, someone she definitely had not expected to see. In the center of the waiting area stood Narcissa Malfoy.

There was no missing her. Narcissa Malfoy had waves of pureblood superiority rolling off her, which, broken down, meant money, power, and authority. The image of the wholesome, loving woman seen in the papers could not be found in the image before her.

She was standing by herself, wearing an elegant fur coat. Her hair was currently a dark blond, darker than Draco's, anyway, and was pinned up elegantly. She was a symbol of beauty and power, there was no doubt about it.

"Ms. Granger?"

She placed a small, polite smile on her face. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. May I have a word?"

Hermione's teeth gritted. No, she could not have a "word". Hermione didn't want to ever talk to the woman that had caused so much pain in her life for the past year. She did not want to talk to the woman that drove her away from Draco simply because she didn't have "pureblood" status. And most importantly, she didn't want to talk to the woman that did whatever it took to manipulate the world around her. She just didn't. She wouldn't.

But of course, what her mind wanted and her mouth said didn't match in the least. "Of course."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself in a café that she had never been in before, after being ushered into a private room and waited on, all in the company of Narcissa Malfoy. Out of all the people she had thought her visitor could be, Narcissa Malfoy was not what she had expected.

The tea arrived shortly, and Hermione found herself face to face with Narcissa with nothing to say. In truth, she didn't know what she could possibly want to say. It must have to do with Draco, but what exactly, she didn't know. Hermione took a sip of her tea. She was only on her second sip when the tension in the room seemed to hit its height, and Narcissa began. "I understand you're a busy woman, Hermione." Her tone was firm and straight-forward. "And so am I, so I'll make this quick. I know about you and Draco."

Hermione put her tea down. Of course she knew, she had broken them apart. "I also know Draco has told you about my fake illness, and how we tried to change his life for the better." Hermione was about to voice her opinion on the so-called "changes" they had made, but Narcissa cut in. "And frankly, I don't care what you think about it. What I want is for you to stay away from Draco."

Hermione watched as Narcissa dug a key out of her purse and slid it across the table to Hermione.

"What is this?" Hermione asked, refusing to touch the key.

"It's a key to a Gringotts vault, number 709. It contains one million Galleons. I'm offering it to you in exchange for your disappearance from Draco's life. I can also arrange a job at a different company for you if you'd like."

"Why?"

"Because I can't afford to have this engagement broken."

"What are you talking about? He's breaking his engagement?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"The point is," she cut in, overriding Hermione's last comment, "stay away from Draco. He doesn't need someone like you to stop him from achieving his potential."

Hermione's anger brewed. How dare she think that Hermione was going to simply take the money and run? Who the hell did she think she was? "I refuse."

"Don't be so quick-minded on this, Ms. Granger. One million Galleons is nothing to be rash about."

No, it wasn't. But neither was their friendship, which they still had despite their little hiccup earlier. And while not everything with Draco made sense, she wasn't going to add more confusion to the mix with this. "I will not take your money, Mrs. Malfoy, no matter what you do. I won't let you control my life."

Hermione made to leave; she was done with her and her ridiculous proposal.

"Don't do this, Hermione Granger. You'll regret it." Her tone turned dark and threatening.

But Hermione wasn't easily frightened; she had fought Voldemort himself. "No, I won't."

* * *

As she walked out of the café, Hermione's anger brewed. Who the hell did she think she was? Was she going to do whatever it took to make sure that Draco stayed away from her? Was she actually willing to come and _bribe _Hermione to stay out of his life? Hermione could feel crackles in the air around her as her magic rolled off her in waves. She was downright angry.

She stopped outside the café to catch her breath and calm down. She had known that it was never going to be easy to be Draco's girlfriend when they had started this whole thing in Australia. But with that kiss earlier, with all the hints Draco had been dropping the past few days, Hermione figured that it was possible that something could start up again. But still, nothing was on the verge of happening.

"_Because I can't afford to have this engagement broken."_

Or maybe something was. Maybe something was going to happen, and Hermione was causing a much greater stir in his family than she could have thought, even if they were technically just friends. But what had she meant by "couldn't afford"?

Suddenly, a bolt of red zipped inches from Hermione's nose. Grabbing her wand, Hermione turned. Someone was walking toward her in broad daylight. The hastily cast Glamour Charms were there for all to see, what with the way the hair was uneven and had blotches of blond and brown in them, along with the varying skin tones.

Hermione brought her wand up just as the next spell was about to hit. She hit them square in the chest and smiled in triumph, when suddenly there was a scream. Hermione turned to see another bolt of light coming straight at her.

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story. All creative rights to characters belong to their original creators. I am not JK Rowling._


	9. Chapter 9

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: …And two months has passed. I'm sorry, RL caught up. But it is now over, and I should be able to get these last few chapters up soon. :)**

**Special thanks to my beta, Yuli, who beta'd this chapter like a boss. :D **

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

She moved to raise her wand even though she knew she didn't have enough time to defend herself. But what other choice did she have than to try?

Then, out of nowhere, Hermione's body collided with someone else's, and she fell to the ground on top of them. She looked at them and found that their face was covered. Hermione turned to her attacker. They started waving their wand again, but Hermione's reflexes were faster. "Stupefy!"

Her attacker fell to the ground. Hermione turned to the person beneath her, who had obviously taken the spell for her. She got off of them and tried to lay them flat on the ground. Whoever it was, he had passed out.

Hermione made to lift his mask off of him when his eyes suddenly opened.

He grabbed her arm, halting her efforts to unmask him. "Who are you?" she asked hesitantly.

But before he could answer, she heard another voice call out behind her. "Hermione!"

She turned to see Draco running up to her. How did he get here so quickly? "Draco?" Hermione asked as she stood.

He rushed over. "Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders and looking her over.

Hermione rolled her eyes, brushing his worry off. "I'm fine, I think this –"

She stopped mid-sentence, for the person had disappeared. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. "What?" Draco asked.

"Someone…saved me." Hermione looked to him, confused.

"From who?" Draco demanded. "Did you see the assailant's face?"

Hermione shook her head. "There were two, and no, I didn't see their faces. But I Stupefied both of them." She looked past Draco to where she had left her assailant, but he was gone, too.

Hermione looked around and noticed a crowd was gathering. There was no doubt that what had happened had not been in her head, but the evidence had all disappeared. "Where?" Draco demanded.

Hermione turned. "I don't know where they went. How did they all disappear?"

Draco's eyes shut in frustration. "Are you sure you are okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm fine. But Draco, how did you get here so quickly?" she asked.

Draco stood straighter. "I could see the commotion from my…"

His gaze drifted to behind Hermione. She turned to see Asteria Greengrass standing at the entrance to the café that Hermione had had tea with Narcissa Malfoy in. Had Narcissa called in Asteria to talk to her after Hermione had left? Or even worse, had Asteria heard the entire conversation?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the Aurors.

Hermione couldn't help but smirk; whether in the Muggle or magical world, the police were always one step behind.

* * *

As she stumbled back into the Malfoy Industries building, Hermione's mind was racing a thousand miles per minute. What was going on? This was no coincidence. It wasn't some freak accident. It seemed as if someone was trying to get to her, and there was only one name on the list of people that had a history in ruining Hermione's life: Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione still couldn't believe that the woman would go to such lengths just to keep Hermione out of Draco's life. He was engaged to someone else; nothing official could possibly happen between the two of them, and yet she wanted Hermione out of Draco's life once and for all. It bothered Hermione to no end. Blood status meant nothing, damn it.

After the incident, the Aurors had come and done their questioning, and Hermione told them all the information she had, though she knew it wasn't much. From the information the crowd seemed able to provide, all three had just disappeared. The only explanation was Apparition, which seemed unlikely, considering the mental capacities all of them should have been in. This implied to Hermione that there were more people involved, so she told as much to the Aurors.

Draco had been oddly silent throughout the whole process. She didn't know what to think of it, but Hermione figured she could just ask him about it another day.

Finally returning to her desk, Hermione saw she had an owl post waiting for her. She opened it and read:

_Congratulations Hermione!_

_I can't believe you did it! You promised to come to my house tonight. I'm throwing a party for Jenna Weaver's birthday, remember? But you need to come so we can celebrate your accomplishment, too. I think I can safely speak for all athletes when I say THANK YOU for curing Grataro Fungus. So remember, my house, 8 o' clock. Don't forget._

_Congratulations! So proud of you!_

_-Katie_

A smile crept onto Hermione's face. Yes, among the hype and everything that had happened, Hermione had almost forgotten that this was supposed to be one of the best days of her life, what with her new potion and everything. What she really wanted to do was to go home and just think and sort everything out. But that was never an option, was it?

* * *

Draco paced back and forth in his office while Greg occupied Draco's seat. "Why is my family so fucking annoying?" he demanded, more to himself than to Greg. "What can I do to make them back the hell off?"

"Date the girl they want you to date?" Greg offered. Draco stopped to glare at Greg. He merely shrugged. "You asked."

Draco rolled his eyes and continued pacing. "There has to be some way to get them to stop."

"You don't know if it was them."

"Right," Draco said sarcastically, "because seeing Asteria standing there conveniently proves they are all in the clear."

Greg folded his arms. "Right, as if it's the girl you need to worry about."

Draco rolled his eyes; Greg was a terrible listener. "Did you forget everything I told you?"

It was Greg's turn to roll his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Draco was done talking about this; he had other things to think about. And then he remembered something else. "Oh, by the way, how's Brown?"

Greg nodded. "Fine. Sent him to the hospital after I dragged him off the street away from your girl. I don't see why you even asked me to look after her; she seems to be able to take care of herself."

"It would have been helpful if Brown followed whoever attacked Hermione instead of collapsing on the job."

"And it wouldn't be my fault if your family wasn't going around trying to assassinate people in broad daylight."

Draco let out a huff. This was getting them nowhere. Suddenly, his attention was brought to the window behind his desk where an owl was hovering. It wasn't just any owl, but one of the family owls. Draco took out his wand and let the creature in. He watched as it dropped a letter on his desk and left without missing a beat.

He looked at the letter to find his mother's handwriting. "Are you going to stare at it all day?"

Draco ignored Greg and picked up the letter. He read:

_We would like to speak to you._

_Now._

He read it again before placing it on the desk. He turned away just as Greg picked it up. "So, aren't you going to go?"

"Do you really think I want to talk to them right now?"

"You're going to have to, unless you and your family want to keep playing this game of cat and mouse with a girl who doesn't even know she's part of the game."

Draco groaned before taking a seat. He looked up at the ceiling. "You had someone replace Brown, right?"

When Greg didn't answer right away, Draco lowered his gaze to look at him. Greg smirked. "You don't think I'm that careless, do you?"

Draco nodded with the reassurance before raising his gaze back at the ceiling. Something needed to be done about all this.

* * *

Hermione stared at the contract. Of course, she had been staring at it for the past hour with no change. She still hadn't signed it. It wasn't that she wasn't happy with the agreement made with the board. It was just that she hadn't been focused enough to read anything past the first line, her head swimming with everyone and everything competing for her thoughts.

She had gotten her potion past the seemingly unyielding board of Malfoy Industries. She had kissed Draco. She had been bribed to not talk to Draco again. She had been attacked in broad daylight to which Draco appeared out of nowhere to seemingly help her. All of this had to connect somehow, but Hermione didn't know exactly how. Draco seemed to be the bottom line in all of it, but that didn't answer the question as to who had attacked her. The only suspects seemed to be Draco's parents, but this was against everything they had done so far. They were very much the type that preferred to lurk in the background than to create a scene that was going to be all over the papers by tomorrow morning.

She had her fair share of enemies, but none were so bold as to attack her in daylight. What did this person want from her? Hermione sighed, leaning her head on a closed fist. She placed her quill down and continued to think. There had to be some missing puzzle piece or something missing that she just wasn't getting.

"Hermione?" Drawn out of her thoughts, Hermione looked up to see Hannah. "You okay there? You've been staring at that paper for hours."

"I'm fine," Hermione said with a smile as to not worry her.

"Are you sure? It's five o'clock. Most people are heading out."

Hermione looked around; indeed, most people had already left the offices for the day. Hermione put the contract in her purse and made to leave for the night. There was no reason to stick around. Plus, Katie wanted to see her later. "Shall we?" Hermione asked, as she stood beside Hannah to walk out.

"Are you going to celebrate tonight?" Hannah asked.

Hermione grinned. "Apparently so. Katie is dragging me to a birthday party for Jenna Weaver, which she says she is going to somehow combine with my celebratory party."

Hannah smiled. "Well you deserve to have a little fun after all of the effort you put into your work."

Looking down, Hermione responded, "Thanks."

* * *

Draco Apparated into the corridor outside the drawing room of the manor. After landing, he prepared himself for this conversation with his parents. He didn't know what exactly was going to come out of it, but he had a clear goal in mind. After taking a breath and straightening his clothes, Draco pushed the door open and walked in.

He was greeted with the sight of his mother chatting to his fiancée with his very unresponsive father at the table's edge. In fact, the only thing his father wanted to do these days was drink himself into oblivion. A fine dinner had been prepared. Typical. His mother always wanted to pretend to maintain civility and decorum despite what she did outside of company's eye.

"Draco, my dear, come here," his mother beckoned. Draco came closer but didn't sit. His father was already busy on his third glass of wine. Draco realized that his father never seemed to be an active participant in this madness. He needed to figure out some way to use this to his advantage. He looked to Asteria who was busy crying herself into the linens.

"Sit," his mother said.

Draco ignored her. He didn't want to go around this topic anymore or pretend that he was okay with it. He much preferred the straightforward approach. "I'm not going to pretend with this anymore. I want to make this as clear as possible. I want all of you to stay out of my life." Asteria gasped in shock. Even his mother had the audacity to look offended.

"But Draco…" The quivering voice came from Asteria. She patted her eyes. "Even though what your mother did was wrong, she was only trying to do what was best for you."

Draco scoffed. "Best for me? Like my company? You know she got attacked outside Malfoy Industries today, right? How's that going to look in the press tomorrow?"

It was silent for a few seconds, and his mother exchanged a look with Asteria before she turned solidly back to him. "Of course we knew about it, dear."

"So you're okay with someone _dying_ on the company's front steps?" Draco asked, raising a brow. He knew that appealing to their sentimental side with his feelings and his life wouldn't exactly get him far with them, but he knew that focusing on the family business's tarnished image was his best bet.

"Some sacrifices just have to be made."

Draco was surprised. After everything this family had done to raise its reputation, they didn't care if they brought it back down again? "You can't be serious."

His mother's mask of civility slipped with the blink of an eye. "Do not think for one second, Draco, that this relationship that you are having with that Mudblood is acceptable in our eyes." Draco's gaze flicked to his father, who looked like he couldn't care less. He looked to Asteria who was sniffling into a handkerchief. "We are accepting this little rebellion that you have seemed keen to have and are moving back the date of the wedding. But that does not mean that this little Mudblood is allowed to do anything to tarnish the blood in our veins that our families have worked decades to maintain!" Her voice echoed in the empty room.

Draco scoffed. "I'm not –"

"I'm not finished!" His mother cut in. Draco looked away, and she continued, "The wedding may have been pushed back, but you are still engaged to Asteria." Glancing at Asteria, Draco found he really hated Slytherins. "The magic has already been tied between you two. And don't think we don't know about what you've been trying to do behind our backs." Draco raised a brow. Much like what they've been doing behind his? "Poor Asteria's been hit with magic tremors for the past few days, the poor thing."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the act. As if any lawyer was willing to touch the breaking of their engagement. "But if you try to cut your engagement and sign those papers, your little Mudblood's safety can't be guaranteed, no matter how many people you pay to watch her."

His mother took a deep breath before re-applying her mask of civility. "So finish up what you want to do with her, Draco, and then marry Asteria," she said, placing a hand on Asteria's shoulder. "That's all we ask." She smiled, signaling the end of her little speech.

"Please, Draco," Asteria said, looking up at him through her tears. "We need to do what's best for our families. We have to do our duty and maintain the blood lines." He watched as his mother agreed with her words. "Although you don't like the circumstances in which we became betrothed, we can't break the sacred bond that ties us."

Draco was in disbelief at the lengths that the two of them would go to in the name of blood status. It was ridiculous. "I'm not going to do what you guys want me to do. I'm not going to let you control and manipulate my life for your own sake and your own twisted and idiotic beliefs. I'm going to protect Hermione from you and that's all there is to it. I'm never going to marry you, Asteria, and I'm never going to sit back and watch my life be controlled by anyone again. That's all I came here to say."

Draco turned and walked out the door. He could almost see his mother's offended face as he walked out the room.

* * *

Hermione stood at her fireplace getting ready to floo to Katie's house for the party. She wasn't exactly excited about going; while she wanted to celebrate her success, she had other things to figure out. And on top of that, someone was trying to kill her, which was always a reason to be worried.

Hermione was about to drop some floo powder in her fireplace when she heard a knock at her door. Feeling for her wards, she sighed in relief after confirming that they were in place. She then walked closer to her front door. The knocking began again. Hermione could feel her heart pound in her chest. Who the hell was it?

The knocking began again as Hermione sidled up to the door. And then she heard it. "Hermione! Where _are_ you?"

Hermione let out the breath she didn't know she was holding as she pulled the door open. "Merlin, Katie, you scared the life out of me!"

Katie pushed her way into Hermione's front door before wheeling back 180 degrees to examine Hermione's outfit. When she was done she looked back up at Hermione. "Where have you been? We've been waiting for you."

"We?" Hermione asked.

Katie ignored her. "Don't think you can get out of this party. No more stalling, let's go." Katie planted herself just outside Hermione's Apparition wards. "If you don't end up at my front doorstep seconds within the time I do, I will personally come hunt you down, girl."

"I was going to the party. I don't see why you are so worried."

"I need to be worried about you. You have a tendency to want to blend into the background, and I'm not letting you do that tonight."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Because you are supposed to be celebrating," Katie said, adding in a couple of half dance moves. "You don't know how excited my team is for this new potion of yours to hit the market. Let me tell you, Grataro Fungus seems to love us athletes, and to finally have a cure that doesn't involve removing my skin calls for a celebration."

Hermione couldn't really argue with that as she brought her wand up. "I'll meet you there."

"Great," Katie said before disappearing with a pop.

Hermione sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time that night. Time to get the night over with. She put up her wards and made sure she had Jenna's birthday present.

With everything in order, she envisioned Katie's front door, shut her eyes, and Disapparated.

* * *

Draco was just about to floo out of the manor when he heard her. "Off so soon, Draco dear?"

He let out a sigh before turning. The perfection of her makeup and lack of tear stains did not go unnoticed by him. "For a girl that was supposedly crying for the past hour or so, you look impeccable. What was it? _Mestico_? Or the Fleo Hex, _Madorus_?" he asked, listing various crying spells.

"Thank you. I used _Madorus_," she said with ease. She continued on without skipping a beat. "Before you go, I want you to think wisely about this decision you're making," she said before taking a seat on a nearby couch.

"You can't change my mind, Asteria. If my mother couldn't, why in the hell would you be able to?"

Asteria scoffed. "We both know that your mother isn't the one in control here."

Draco knew that perfectly clear, but that didn't make things better.

"Make life easy on yourself, my _darling_ fiancé," she added with a tone of pure disdain. "We wouldn't want you or your little bitch to get hurt."

"As made clear with the fiasco mother put on earlier today," Draco spat.

"Please," Asteria said, "your mother knew nothing of it until you spoke. She knows a lot less than what she thinks she does. She only knows what we tell her. She's merely a pawn on our chess board."

"And what are you?" Draco asked.

"The Queen," she said simply.

"Then you would still be serving a King," Draco replied pragmatically.

"You are my King," she said apathetically.

Draco scoffed. "We both know that's not true, and we both know you are enslaved to another."

Asteria merely smiled. "There's no shame in it," she said. "Don't place all your assets with her, Draco," she tried with a new tone and a new tactic. "I can do so much more for you. I have billions to match your millions. I have markets you haven't even dreamed of. Your company is what is most important to _you_ deep down inside, isn't it?"

* * *

Once Hermione arrived at Katie's front door, Katie didn't waste any time. She threw the door open while simultaneously securing a death grip on Hermione's arm. "Look who has arrived!" she announced, shoving Hermione to the front. "I've brought the famous Hermione Granger!"

Hermione tried to adjust to the new environment. It was a typical party, complete with music that was meant to damage hearing and no place to stand without colliding into someone else. And of course, the reeking stench of alcohol perfumed the air.

The crowd broke into a cheer. Hermione turned to Katie. "You didn't tell anyone about the potion today, right?" Hermione asked.

Katie scoffed. "No, why would I do that?" Then she tacked on hastily, "Why, was I not supposed to?"

Hermione shut her eyes. Great.

"Hermione!" She looked to her right to find Lavender Brown. "Congratulations on the potion, I'm so happy for you."

"Congratulations to you, too, Lavender. I heard you got engaged."

"I did," she squealed, pushing the ring into Hermione's face.

"It's beauti –" she began before her arm was being dragged away.

"Katie, what are you doing?"

"You can't keep in one place if you want to be seen."

"Who says I want to be seen?" Hermione said over the music.

"Don't you want to be seen now that you're single again?" Katie asked as her attention drifted.

Hermione sighed before prying her arm out of Katie's grip while a boy distracted her. She wandered a couple of steps backward right into someone. "Sorry," she said, turning to face them.

And then a smile crossed her face when she recognized who it was. "Dennis?"

He nodded. "It's me."

Hermione smiled. "Wow, what a coincidence. I didn't know you were back in London."

"Yeah, just got back a month ago when the Ministry offered me a job."

"Oh, that's brilliant. That's what you wanted, right?"

He nodded in agreement. "I also see that you found Draco again."

Hermione looked to the ground. "Yeah," she said.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you track him down better last time."

"Oh, it's fine. I mean, without you I wouldn't have looked in the Daily Prophet to find that he got engaged."

There was a pause as the two stood there, and then, "Oh, there's my date. I'd better go get her before she drops her drink again." And with that, Dennis wandered off to place his arm around a girl Hermione didn't know. Hermione smiled. It was nice to know that he had found someone.

Hermione wandered again away from Katie. She was at the party, but that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to go and find a quiet corner to just think. However, Katie's bedrooms were at the other side of the house.

She began to make her journey. The kitchen was easy enough to get through, but she did have to dodge quite a few people past the designated dance floor. She was about to get into the clear when she ran into someone again. "Sorry," she said before she tried to hastily slip away.

"Wait," the voice said. Hermione stopped. Turning, she saw a large man standing in front of her with deep set eyes and dark brown hair. He seemed familiar, but Hermione couldn't place him. "You don't recognize me?" the man asked.

Hermione tilted her head. She had seen this person before, but she couldn't remember where. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

The man let out a low chuckle. "Greg." Hermione still couldn't place him. "Gregory _Goyle_?" he asked. Hermione couldn't help but flick her eyes to a spot below his left elbow to be sure. "Ah, you remember trying to take my arm off in the Final Battle, eh?" he asked.

He moved his arm to show her the scar. Hermione couldn't believe it. "Goyle?" she asked.

"I'd prefer Greg, but yes, Goyle's the name."

"You look…different." The last time she'd seen Goyle, he was a hulking machine that only seemed to want to hex people. But this person standing in front of her didn't resemble any of that at all.

"Ah," he said, "I get that a lot."

Hermione smiled. It was weird to finally see Goyle in person. Sure, Draco had mentioned him a few times, and never in a good light, but he had never mentioned the changes he'd gone through after school. For one, Hermione had always thought his face naturally looked cruel, but apparently he could pull off an expression of amusement as well.

He leaned in suddenly, only to say, "I hear you're dating Draco."

A blush crept onto Hermione's cheeks for reasons she didn't know. She looked past his head. "No, we're not. We – we're just friends."

Greg laughed. "That was your decision, right?" Hermione smiled and nodded, not quite understanding. He smirked. "I can see why he takes such interest in you."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked.

"Have you seen him tonight?" Greg asked in a completely different tone. Hermione blinked in surprise at the jump in topic.

"No," she said. "Why?"

Greg gave a mischievous smile that Hermione didn't understand. "You should go see him."

"Why?" Hermione asked again.

Greg shrugged. "He wants to see you."

"How do you know?" This was getting more confusing by the minute.

"He always does," he said, the twinkle of mischievousness not going unnoticed by Hermione. "I better go," he said. "There's a blonde girl behind you that wants my attention."

Hermione watched as he sidestepped her and walked away, trying to comprehend the strange conversation she'd just had with Goyle.

Shaking her head, Hermione turned and headed to the bedrooms. The strange conversation made her want to think even more. She opened the door to the first bedroom only to slam it shut. People should really lock doors if they wanted to have sex. She opened the next door before slamming it shut again. Honestly, people needed to have some decency.

On the third door, she sighed in relief after finding it empty. She went inside and shut it, before casting a spell to drown the music out so she could hear herself think.

Thinking was good; it helped sort things out.

* * *

Draco stumbled out of the floo and straight into his kitchen, where he tried to find the whiskey. He needed a drink. He didn't know why, but every time he talked to her he felt like he needed a drink, especially when he thought about how, technically, they were still bonded to each other magically through the engagement. Part of him wanted to let the hangover be tomorrow, just on the slight chance she might be able to feel it.

* * *

Hermione lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She still couldn't piece everything together. She couldn't figure out who wanted to kill her, though there was an obvious enough answer – Draco's mother. In fact, she seemed to be the only suspect. She had bribed Hermione to stay away from Draco, after all, and she had said Hermione would regret her decision. But did that mean that she would regret it because she'd be dead? She had thought it meant she'd be fired from the company or something like that, but to jump straight into killing seemed a little extreme. After all, she hadn't attacked Hermione or Draco when she forced them to break up the first time, but that could have been because Draco was so compliant then.

On the other hand, if Narcissa was in fact out to kill her, what proof did Hermione have? How could she protect herself? What could she do to make all these attacks stop? She let out a huff; this wasn't getting any easier to figure out.

Suddenly the door flew open. "Hermione!"

Looking up, Hermione saw Katie standing in the doorway. She put her head back down on the bed. "What?" she asked.

"Uh, why are you hiding in here? You're supposed to be partying."

"I'm not in the partying mood, Katie," Hermione said dismissively.

She felt the bed sink to her right. "Why not?" Katie asked.

Hermione sat up. It would be best to get this over with. "Someone tried to kill me today."

"What?!" Katie screamed. Hermione's eyes flew open and she drew out her wand to cast a privacy charm just as Katie repeated, "You were almost killed?!"

"Yeah."

"Okay, what's going on here? Start at the beginning."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, it started with me talking to Narcissa Malfoy in a café across the street from work-"

"Whoa, wait a second. What do you mean Narcissa Malfoy?"

Hermione gave Katie a sheepish look. "I might have kept you out of the loop of a few developments in my relationship with Draco."

Katie sighed, adjusting her seat on the bed, which involved kicking off her high heels. When she finished, she waved an arm at Hermione and said, "Alright, I'm comfortable now. You may begin."

Hermione looked into her hands and began to tell Katie all about her new relationship with Draco and how they were friends, and what had really happened to them a year ago, all the while hoping Katie wasn't going to go ballistic knowing that Hermione had been secretly eating dinner with Draco the past few nights without letting her know.

When Hermione finished, right up the point where she'd had that strange conversation with Goyle earlier, she let out a sigh and collapsed onto the bed. "And that's what I've been hiding from you for the past few weeks."

"I knew something was up when you said you were busy the past few days, but I had no idea that it would be because you are once again _dating_ Draco Malfoy."

"We aren't dating," Hermione clarified. Katie raised a brow at her. "We're not," she insisted.

"If you say so. But there's one thing in your story that I want to ask you."

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"Are you sure you can trust Draco?"

"Why not? He's not at fault here."

"But you said that he didn't come back because he had to marry Asteria."

"Yes…" Hermione said, not comprehending.

"Well, even if he had to marry her, if he'd had good intentions, it wouldn't make sense for Draco to just leave. He could have come back and at least told you." Hermione's eyebrows crinkled. Katie had a good point. Why didn't he come back? The most logical explanation in her mind was that he couldn't bear telling her the news. But, didn't she deserve that much from him after everything they went through? There had to be an answer though. He had seemed so genuine about everything else, it couldn't all be an act that simply had a tiny flaw that Katie happened to see through, could it?

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" she answered, absentmindedly thinking about the different possibilities.

"Did you hear me?" Katie asked.

Hermione turned to her. "Hear what?" she asked.

Katie let out a smile. "You really like the boy, don't you?" Hermione gave her a look of confusion. Katie ignored it and said, "Look, Greg said that Draco wanted to see you. Maybe you should take that opportunity to ask him about this missing plot hole in the story he told you to see if he was really being earnest."

"How can I trust Goyle? I haven't seen him in five years, and last time I did see him it was in the Final Battle when I was trying to take his arm off."

Katie nodded in slight agreement. "I agree with you, yes, but I have seen Greg since the Final Battle, and while he isn't quite the most trustworthy person, I don't think he'd say that to you if he didn't mean it. He and Draco are really close."

Hermione eyed Katie. "'Greg'? How close are the two of you?"

Katie scratched her arm, her tell signal for not wanting to talk about something. "I'll tell you later. For now, you go and find out about Draco," she said, gesturing toward the fireplace.

"Aren't you the one that always says that floo is for boring people?" Hermione said in a mocking tone.

"Well, you can Apparate straight into his flat if you like."

Hermione shook her head no and got up to stand in front of Katie's fireplace. She sent a request for Draco to open the floo before turning to talk to Katie once again.

* * *

Draco gulped down another shot of whiskey. As he was about to pour himself another, he saw his fireplace glow green. He stumbled forward to see a request to open the floo to Katie Bell's house in Hermione Granger's name. That was definitely interesting. What could she want?

Drunk or not, Draco knew he couldn't refuse a visit from Hermione. He was about to let her through, only to notice the many bottles and mess he had made since his arrival at home.

Through the fog of his mind, Draco tried to remember where he kept his sobering potions.

* * *

Hermione turned to Katie. "This is a bad idea. It's already past midnight, and he could be asleep, or out, or maybe he doesn't want to talk to me…"

There was a green glow in the fireplace and Hermione closed her eyes in defeat, her excuse disappearing. "Ha," Katie said triumphantly. "He does want to see you."

"Well, isn't it a bit rude to be barging in on him at this hour?"

Katie placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "It's fine. Your midnight is everyone else's 10:30, and you need to just relax. If you don't find out why he left you then you'll never know if he is just playing you again."

Hermione stepped back. "I know, I just…what if he is?" she said quietly. "What if he is playing me and I've just started this stupid cycle all over again?"

Katie rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. Just get your arse in that fireplace and find out."

Hermione sighed and did as told. She looked to Katie before she dropped the floo powder. "Sorry I was no fun at the party tonight."

Katie smiled. "It's fine. Besides, I'm enough of a party all by myself."

Hermione returned the smile before dropping the floo powder.

* * *

Entering the room, Hermione could smell the distinct odor of sobering potions. He had been drinking? Why? He wasn't in the room to greet her, and she figured if the sobering potions were any indication, he was hiding evidence. "Draco?" she called out. There was no response. "Draco?" she tried again.

On the second call, he appeared out of his bedroom door. "Sorry, had to use the loo," he said, straightening his clothes.

Hermione was suspicious, but didn't say anything about it. "I'm sorry to have barged in like this. I just…had a question."

"It's fine," he said. "Have a seat."

Hermione sat down. "I'm not intruding on anything, am I?"

"No," he said. "Never." Hermione smiled and sat down. But now that she was there, how was she supposed to ask him if he was still playing her? How was she to ask someone she had let her guard down around whether or not he was just using her? "What's the question?" he asked.

She took in a breath to try and formulate a nice way of asking him. She also tried to relax her nerves before asking, but her efforts were in vain as the question came out completely jumbled. "Are you using me didn't come back why not?"

Draco took a long look at her before responding, "What?"

Hermione took in a deep breath before beginning again, trying to word the question in an understandable manner. "You said that your parents asked you to marry Asteria because your mother was sick and it was her dying wish." Draco nodded. "But, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you come back and end things properly? Or why didn't you ask to marry me instead?" Draco stared off past her head as Hermione waited for an answer. It had to be something minor, something that Hermione just didn't understand because she wasn't in his shoes, some small misunderstanding that would answer this hole in his explanations. He wasn't using her; he wasn't.

But as the seconds ticked on, he didn't respond. Finally, the wait was too long and Hermione's courageous side spoke out. "Look, Draco, I'm tired of all these secrets. I thought we were through with all these questions and mysteries and all that. I just want to know the truth about everything. No more lies, please."

Draco nodded. "Okay." Hermione could feel her chest pounding. There had to be answer. This wasn't all a lie. There would be a logical answer. There just had to be. "The truth is, I did come back."

* * *

_A/N: I remembered this time to write down where I got the spell names: mesticare: to make sad, fleo : to weep, cry, shed tears, sob, mador : wetness, moisture. All are Latin words I pulled from a Latin Dictionary._

_Asteria scenes go out to a reviewer from long ago, who knows who they are, if they are still reading. You mentioned to me that Asteria wasn't going to sit by idly and watch all this unfold around her. And you were right, I had meant to try and squeeze in an Asteria reaction earlier in the story, but it never really felt right._

_Tune in next time, for Draco has some explaining to do…_


	10. Chapter 10

**Behind the Veil**

**Pairing: Dramione  
Rated: T (language)**

**A/N: Thanks Yuli for beta'ing this one! My commas would suffer without you :)**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

"_Look, Draco, I'm tired of all these secrets. I thought we were through with all these questions and mysteries and all that. I just want to know the truth about everything. No more lies, please."_

_Draco nodded. "Okay." Hermione could feel her chest pounding. There had to be answer. There just had to be. "The truth is, I did come back."_

xx

Hermione stared at him with a look of pure confusion on her face. When words finally came out of her mouth, they were: "No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I came back." Hermione meant to interrupt him again, but he continued, "But I didn't see you because I thought you had moved on."

Hermione sat there in shock, disbelief, and confusion. "You're not making sense."

Draco sighed. "I know. Just let me explain."

After realizing that she was at the edge of her seat, ready to strike, Hermione sat back. She had to allow him an explanation; after all, she had asked for the truth.

* * *

**February 2003**

Draco left the Australian Ministry just as lost as he was when he left the British one. His mind was whirling. He didn't know what to think or what to do. He didn't know how to deny his mother her wish, nor did he know how to tell Hermione what had happened back home.

And what confused him more was that Hermione wasn't responding to his letters. He didn't think that she'd be so upset when he had left a note. He didn't know how many times in the past 72 hours that he thought that perhaps he should have awoken her so this mystery of how she was feeling wouldn't be weighing down on him as well. He kept thinking that perhaps she knew what was happening in Wiltshire, had somehow found out through other means, and that perhaps she was taking the initiative to stay away from him first.

But that was impossible, because no one knew the truth. He knew it was his delusions from lack of sleep that was causing all of these thoughts, but he couldn't help but think them anyway. He Apparated immediately to their flat, ready to greet her, ready to beg for forgiveness if need be. He needed her. He needed everything about her, and most importantly, he needed her strength to fight his family, to fight for his right to be with her.

They hadn't told anyone back home about their relationship. They hadn't told anyone anything. But that didn't matter; they could start now, because he wasn't going to let her go without a fight. His mother wanted him to be married and for him to provide her with grandchildren. Those he could give, but only if Hermione was at his side.

He unlocked the flat and stumbled into it. "Hermione?" he called. There was no response. He searched all the rooms frantically, ready to find her, ready to just tell her everything.

But she wasn't there. He looked at the wall clock, which read 6 o'clock. Perhaps she was out to dinner. Draco stumbled out of their flat and banged on their landlady's door, asking if she knew where Hermione had gone. Luckily she did. She was at some restaurant that Draco didn't care to remember the name of, just how to get there.

When he arrived, he immediately saw her at the back of the restaurant through the front window. This wasn't the type of place he thought she'd be dining alone at, but perhaps she wasn't dining alone? Draco walked toward the front entrance, but just as he was about to enter, he saw her stand.

She was greeting someone, a man. Draco hid in the shadows once again. It was probably just a friend; Draco knew it had to be just a friend. The man gave her an embrace that lasted too long for Draco's taste, but he waited, knowing a hug didn't equal infidelity.

But as he watched further, he knew there had to be more to this than having dinner with some friend, what with the way they were talking to each other, her laugh rolling off her tongue easily. But what convinced him was the way she began to lean toward the bloke as they began to whisper to each other, all smiles. She was flirting with him; it was obvious to all who looked on.

Draco backed out of the restaurant. He placed his back against the wall once outside. No wonder she hadn't owled back. She was busy dating other people and moving on. While he was trying to come up with ways that would allow them to stay together, she was off flirting with other men. Immediately his mind began to wonder how many others there were. Was that the only man, or perhaps just one of many?

What was he thinking? He had been worried for nothing, working to make sure she got to stay in his life, while she was out living one without him after he had disappeared from her life for 72 fucking hours, or perhaps even before that.

And for the first time in the past 72 hours, Draco felt grateful. Grateful that out of this hell that he was placed in, he was able to see that she didn't love him as much as he loved her. And he was able to see it before it went too far.

Draco pushed off the wall and began to walk off. He'd go back to London, and he'd pay any price to get there. He wanted to be as far from this place as possible, even if the price meant marrying someone else.

* * *

**April 1****st****, 2004**

When Draco finished his explanation, Hermione stared at him. "I don't believe you." Draco meant to further his explanation, but Hermione continued, "I wrote you. I even wrote you about Dennis, telling you how I was looking for you through him. I wrote to you about how I thought I saw you, and how I wanted desperately to find you because I was worried about you." There had to be more, there had to be something else, because this story he was fabricating made no sense.

He wasn't looking her in the eye as she spilled this out to him, but when she stopped to allow for his reason, the reason Hermione wanted so badly to exist, he said, "I know that…now."

He looked up at her then, and Hermione asked, "What do you mean _now_?"

"I wrote you, too," he said. "I owled you, wondering how you were. I left you a note saying where I had gone."

Hermione shook her head frantically. "No, you didn't. You didn't leave any letters at all. You just disappeared!"

Draco shook his head before reaching for his wand. Then he said, "_Accio letters_." Hermione watched as a neatly tied pile of parchment soared from his bedroom. They landed in Draco's lap and he picked them up gingerly. "Here are the letters you wrote. I didn't get them until recently."

"How recent?" Hermione interrogated.

"The day you were attacked at Malfoy Industries." Hermione didn't have time to absorb all this information before he continued, "I know this is crazy, but you said you wanted to know everything. Well, here's the truth. All the letters that we wrote were intercepted. We were forcibly removed from each other."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't believe you."

Draco began, "Herm-,"

"No!" Hermione demanded as she sat ramrod straight in her seat. "No, that makes no sense. You have them right there. You have my letters, and I have none. You never wrote me any."

"I did, but they never got to you," he insisted.

Hermione shook her head. "You have my letters right in front of you."

"They gave them back to me," Draco said slowly.

"Well then, where are your letters?" she demanded. "The one's you claim to have written me."

Draco sighed, before he spoke softly, "I don't have them."

"Of course you don't," Hermione said. "So you want me to believe that someone intercepted all the letters between the two of us, but gave mine back to you just recently?" Hermione couldn't help but let out a scoff at the idea of it. "Say this elaborate lie was all truth, Draco. Why would they give them back to you now?"

"To tell me to stay away from you."

And suddenly, the confusion, frustration, and anger melted away. She didn't know how to describe the way she felt. The closest word she could come up with was amusement, because suddenly, his lies didn't even add up. "Let's pretend I believe you," Hermione said, barely being able to conceal a smile, realizing an overreaction, and an angry one in particular, was unnecessary. She should have been smart enough to expect this to happen. "Giving letters back to you wouldn't have made you stay away from me. Giving someone personal letters doesn't repel the person from the writer; it brings the two people closer to each other."

Hermione paused, before shaking her head. "Why am I even bothering to explain this? What's more important to say is that you almost had me there. I believed in you. I trusted you again, and now I feel so incredibly stupid. Your lies never stop, and it took me this long to realize they never will."

Hermione stood to leave. She had to admit to herself that he could spin a lie, but even the strongest lies unraveled with a single loose thread. A part of her couldn't even believe she had fallen for it again, fallen for the same mess of lies and deceit. How could she have even thought for one second that this was some big messed up misunderstanding that could be fixed with time? Now she had all the answers, and it wasn't a misunderstanding. It was a cycle, a game that she stupidly kept playing with him.

She was reaching for the floo powder when he called out, "Do you honestly think that I would play you like that, after what we had together?"

"What else am I supposed to believe?" Hermione grasped the silver substance in her fist and answered without turning around. "And what exactly did we have? Some fun before your engagement to some perfect pureblood witch?"

She was about to step into the fireplace when suddenly his hand grabbed her, turning her around. "Have you even considered for a second that I might be telling the truth? That I wouldn't lie to you?"

"Let go of me," she said darkly.

His grip on her tightened. "Have you?" he demanded.

"No!" Hermione yelled. "I haven't considered the fact that you're not lying to me. I won't."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because that just makes it worse!"

"How? It means that I didn't lie. It means that I cared about you. It means that what we had was real…that I loved you."

Hermione raised her gaze to look him square in the eye. "No," she said softly. "It doesn't. If everything was true just like you said, it means you didn't care about me enough. It means that you didn't love me enough to fight for me. It means you took one look at me with some other man and turned the other way, because I wasn't worth it."

His grip on her faltered then, and Hermione quickly took her chance. She stepped into the fireplace and dropped the floo powder without looking back.

* * *

The next moment she was alone in her flat. She stepped out of the fireplace before locking the floo, just to make sure that he couldn't follow her, though she was almost positive he wouldn't. She didn't want him to come in and confuse her even more.

With that done, she collapsed on her couch, her purse at her side. But as she felt it, she soon realized that something was off about it. She stared at it before realizing he had put something inside.

She dug her hand in and pulled out a wad of parchment. Hermione knew instantly what it was: her letters. He had somehow slipped them in her purse without her knowing.

She took the letters and threw them as far as she could, though they didn't land too far. She stared at them, hoping that if she looked long enough, they would disappear. But as she stared, the only thing that changed was that tears began prickling at her eyes.

He had played her again. His story didn't check out, it didn't make sense. It was only confusing, incomprehensible, and most importantly a lie. It didn't make sense for him to not come back or fight for her if he had truly loved her.

He was a bastard. That was all there was to it. He was a bastard that was mighty good at lies and manipulation. And she fell for it.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she didn't know whether to be angry or upset. She had promised herself that she would never let someone use her again. She had said she'd know the next time, but he had reeled her in again all the same.

Hermione stared at the letters sitting there on the floor in a neatly tied bundle, mocking her. They represented everything she wanted to forget: her feelings, her regrets, her stupid, gullible self. She Accio'd them back to her as her tears streamed down her face. She didn't want to remember what she had written when she was fully in love with the bastard. She gripped the edges of the parchments, ready to send all of them flying into the fireplace, when her hand stopped.

One particular note she had written stood out in her mind. She wanted to find it. She knew it out of everything could help her find closure over the feelings she'd had for this man that were so real for her, but nothing to him.

She pushed all the notes to the side and reached for the last note at the bottom of the stack, the last message she had sent to him, the one she really needed to read again to gain closure from her emotions for him. She had sent it to him right after she had found his engagement announcement in the paper.

She gripped the paper and read each word back slowly to commit them to memory. It was a long note. An essay almost, and she had written it at her darkest moment. In it, she didn't beg him to come back to her. She didn't ask him what happened between them. She merely acknowledged the truth. The truth that she knew both then and now, but had still needed to write down to get the closure she had needed.

She read in the letter how she knew now that the answer to all her questions was perhaps the most basic answer of them all: blood. She had never been good enough for him; she never would have meant anything to him because of her blood. He'd had his fun with her, but in the end, he still stuck with pure blood.

And then Hermione reached the most important paragraph of the entire letter, wherein she'd written that she was going to move on, that she didn't need him, and that she would release him to his fiancée in order for her to heal. Tears dripped down her face as she read the final words, and the promise she'd made herself so long ago:

_You didn't break me. You didn't destroy me. And blood will never stop me._

Hermione stared at the letter and read it again and again as she sobbed. She tried to believe the words and commit them to heart, just as she had one year ago. She wasn't broken. He would never break her. She was done pining for him.

But the tears continued to flow.

* * *

**April 2****nd****, 2004**

Hermione awoke to the sound of a knock on her door. She rolled over and barely missed falling over the edge of her couch, soon realizing that she hadn't gone to bed last night. She grabbed a pillow and placed it over her head. She wasn't ready to see anyone.

"Hermione!" the voice screamed.

Hermione contemplated casting a silencing charm before realizing that it would be too much work. She settled on an irritated, "Go away, Katie." The knocking persisted.

When the knocks continued for ten minutes, Hermione groaned in frustration and got off the couch. She made her way to the door and flung it open. "Go away, Katie," she said before trying to slam the door back into place.

But her lack of sleep made her reflexes too slow and Katie caught the door before Hermione could complete her plan. This gave Katie a chance to take a good look at her. "You look like shit, Hermione."

Hermione made a face back. "Thanks, that's exactly what we girls want to wake up to in the morning."

She turned on her heel and was making her way to her bedroom when she heard her door shut and Katie call out, "Wait, Hermione." Hermione didn't, so Katie ran up and blocked her path. "What happened?" she asked.

Hermione swallowed. "You were right. Draco is a fucking arse and bastard whom I never want to see again."

Katie shut her eyes and the guilt could be seen on her face. "What happened?" she asked again.

"I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said, making her way back to her couch since that path wasn't blocked.

"Just tell me," Katie said.

"No."

* * *

An hour later found Hermione finishing up what happened between her and Draco last night and his insane story that made no sense. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't know it would have ended that poorly."

Hermione leaned back. "No, I'm actually thankful, I think; now I know never to fall for his act again."

Katie smiled sadly. "Want to go over to my place and just have a girl's night?" she asked.

"I'm not twelve, Katie."

Katie laughed. "And yet here you are, pouring your heart over Draco like a sixteen year old girl."

Hermione gave Katie a face, which Katie returned.

Three hours later, Hermione left her house to spend the night at Katie's.

* * *

**April 4****th****, 2004**

Separation from Draco when he didn't disappear off the planet was something new for Hermione. She had never experienced it. Staying at Katie's was one of the only ways Hermione could think of to remove herself from the burden of Draco on her mind. Distraction was the best, if not the only, remedy she had in her arsenal to fight back against the demon that had come to possess her mind in the form of Draco Malfoy.

She had been just as trusting as she had the first time, and the cycle had repeated almost perfectly as it had the last time. One thing she had thought was that it would perhaps be easier to get over him the second time, because if she had done it once, doing it again would be easier.

But this time was different. She couldn't just up and leave the country and physically banish all locations that reminded her of him. No, this time she was stuck.

She was stuck with her home, stuck with her life, but, most annoyingly, stuck with her job.

She floo'd into Malfoy Industries at her normal time and made her way to her work space.

Sitting there, as neat as could be, was a letter from Draco. Hermione stared at it for a long time before someone interrupted her concentration. "Hermione?"

Hermione looked away from the letter, not realizing her gaze had fogged over. "Yes, Hannah?"

"What do you have there?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

Hermione grabbed the letter and immediately fisted it into a ball in her hand. "Nothing." She knew her face was blushing and that it was very obvious she was lying, but it was too late to do anything now.

"Touchy, are we," Hannah said. "Keep your love letters to yourself then," she said, turning away with a wink.

Hermione sighed in relief. It would be best to not tell Hannah and the entire floor that she was receiving personal letters from the CEO.

Finding her vanishing bin, Hermione dropped the letter in and watched it disappear, hoping no more letters would arrive.

* * *

**1:00 PM**

No letters arrived after the first, which left Hermione with a feeling of relief and something else she couldn't yet place. He hadn't written her again; had she not been worth the time or effort for him to write _once_ more? She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't help her thoughts as she made her way to the cafeteria.

Once there, she heard the news readily enough from one of Draco's secretaries. Eavesdropping was always a simple thing to do in lunch lines. "…pretty much have the next two days off because Malfoy is out on business in Lancaster."

"You don't think he might return on short notice?" another secretary asked.

"No, says he's doing some 'personal' business up there. If you ask me, he's probably getting ready for the wedding. The Greengrasses hold estate in Lancaster."

"But why would he personally go up there?"

"Who knows, pureblood tradition, probably…"

Hermione digested the information. He was writing Hermione letters all the while getting ready to marry his fiancée. What she ever saw in the man was beyond her.

And it seemed once the veil of lies was lifted, all other lies fell into place, showing what kind of person he really was: one that didn't deserve her attention.

Her mind agreed with her decision to move on. If only her heart would follow suit.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading :) Only 2 chapters left!_

_Random Writing Fact: Before I did research on this chapter, I could have sworn that floo powder was green. I guess not…_


End file.
